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littlemissclandestine · 4 months

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Why I think Russell Adler is going to make a comeback in COD 2024

WARNING⚠️: Contains spoilers for Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War and Call of Duty: Black Ops 2

Disclaimer: This is all just speculation on my behalf of course. I've just tried piecing stuff together for fun because Russ is one of my fave BO characters even though he's a bitch but i need more Adler content stat. <33

Let's get into it peeps. HEAR ME OUT.

Buckle up. Gonna be one hell of a ride folks 🤪

We'll start off with some random/background info.

Russ was born on February 12th 1937 so that would make him 53/54 in the Gulf War era. This actually isn't that old because if you think about it, Woods was about to turn 51 in 1981 during the Cold War campaign. What's a few more years?

We last saw Adler in action post-campaign in Warzone 1.0 cinematics but we've been kept in the dark about Adler's whereabouts post-1984 (after being brainwashed and killing Stitch LOL).

This meanie in a beanie wasn't forgotten about, oh no. He appears in the new cinematic intros on startup for both MWII (2022) and MWIII (2023). See below:

He was also featured twice in the 20 year anniversary video for Call of Duty whereas COD Ghosts didn't even get an appearance (ouch): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eL_w5HmxsPI

I personally believe Adler was a great addition to the Black Ops roster and is essentially the new Black Ops 'cover boy' now. Would be such a shame and a missed opportunity not to include a character like him in the upcoming COD. One who is morally grey, does whatever he deems necessary to get the job done - a bit like Cpt. Price in MW. Got the COD fans riled up about him brainwashing and pulling the trigger on Bell too - he's already got the spotlight in both a good and bad way.

Now, let's explore my main reasoning as to why I think Mr Shades 2.0 is most likely coming back in late 2024...

🎖️First up: Gulf War mission list 🔫

Here are some of the campaign missions that will be featured in Black Ops Gulf War. Obviously, this is subject to change, however, going off what we have, look closely...

Credit: @MWIIINTEL on Twitter/X

Safehouse guys...SAFEHOUSE. Takes you right back to Cold War, doesn't it? Ugh the potential.

🕵️ Next up: The campaign for COD 2024 will dive into the CIA's role/the Black Ops timeline 🕘

I took the following snippet from this official article.

From this, we know there will be a huge focus on the CIA and who's a CIA clandestine special officer? Mhm, you guessed it - Russell Adler.

Now, according to the events of BO2, it's evident which characters have the possibility of returning out of our original BO trio - Jason Hudson, Frank Woods and Alex Mason.

💫 Alex is presumed dead after Frank shot him so he's out the picture in '90/91 until 2025 when they canonically meet again.

🪵 Woods would be in his 60s during this time too so I'll let you decide whether that's too old for him to be in GW.

Edit: Woods got SPAS-12'd in the kneecaps on Dec 20th 1989 by Raul Menendez so uh...yeah

🧊 Hudson died on Dec 20th 1989 at the hands of Raul Menendez.

Feel free to check out this website (Call of Duty Wiki) for an outline of the events after CW to remind yourself. Here's a link to the Black Ops timeline from there.

➡️ Gulf War being a direct sequel to Cold War and what that could mean 💉

That brings me onto the rest of the safehouse crew. Since GW is a direct sequel to CW, it would make sense for some characters to carry over if possible:

We, as the player/Bell, get to choose whether Park or Lazar die (or both lovebirds) in 'End of the Line'. It's highly unlikely they'll return unless the devs make one decision canon maybe.

There could be a chance we see Sims again given his bond with Adler (Da Nang etc.), his age (late 40s in GW) and his status (alive).

That leaves the man himself, Russ. Everything from his age to the fact he's CIA and was the deuteragonist in COD 2020's campaign just makes sense for him to have at least a lil cameo or even a larger role, don't you think?

📱Finally: Hints from official posts 🔎

This post from Call of duty's official Instagram account kind of sealed the deal for me.

Oh lookie - they dropped syringe-lover's famous line in a zombies post. Why would COD just drop it so casually like that without a reason and years after since CW came out? They could've said absolutely anything else but no, this was purposeful.

And that's all for this episode guys and gals!

Thank you for reading!! 🫂

Do what you will with all this information but I have concluded in my silly little brain that scarface is coming back.

How he's only in one game is beyond me. Won't get a character like him ever again. Seems like a cliché war dude at first glance but dig a little deeper into the details of the CW campaign, peel back the layers and get into his psychology and WOWZERS.

Am I delusional? Most definitely.

But the possibility he might be returning...that little bit of hope is enough for me and i won't shut up about it.

This will age horribly if he isn't in GW. Forgive me for feeding your delusions too in that case. Please?

What are your thoughts? Feel free to share them! 😊

#this took forever rip #but you see where i'm coming from?#might do a part two if anything else gets leaked #Star's bottomless waffles ☆#call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #black ops 2 #alex mason #frank woods #russell adler #jason hudson #black ops gulf war #cod cw #cod cold war #call of duty black ops #call of duty cold war #cod 2024

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meetinginsamarra · 11 months

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My fave Sherlock BBC tropes: Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Around mid-month I’ll do a fic rec list with my fave AU genres or tropes. Summaries are taken from OP on AO3.

Enemy Number One by lookupkate

When Anderson finally crosses a line and gets fired a new pathologist takes his place. Sherlock isn't happy to find that the new doctor is almost as good at his job as Sherlock is. Said new doctor, John Watson, wants to woo the genius until he finds out what a prick he can be. Then he's just amused. And maybe a bit fond. And kind of smitten. Then he falls in love with the prick. Bloody hell.

Oscillation by lookupkate

John and Mary have been together for two years and John thinks they should probably settle down. John is happy with Mary. It's the only way their situation makes sense, so it must be happiness. Sherlock sees a flaw in that logic. What does John do then, when the strange man brings parts of his life into question and refuses to just bloody go away? Well, fall in love with him, of course.

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 @alexxphoenix42

John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Mistletoe and Misdemeanours by Robottko

When Victor Trevor backs out of the Holmes family Christmas at the last minute, Sherlock panics because he has no way to impress his parents. Thankfully there is a handsome army doctor with nowhere to go in his coffee shop, though it would be more helpful if he were a bit more willing.

An Everlasting Inferno by thatawkwardfriend

Sherlock and John are both men who operate outside the law. John works for Mary and her hitmen in order to keep a roof over his head. Sherlock does anything his drug dealer asks of him in exchange for free drugs and housing.

They meet one night in a darkened garage to negotiate a deal. But they soon find out that neither of their bosses are being entirely honest with them about their goals or motives. With a little poking around, they stumble upon something much bigger than themselves and discover that perhaps, it might be in their best interests to work together.

(Loosely inspired by StartUp and Little Favour)

The Key to Castles in the Air by LadyKailitha

John is a clerk (and writing a book on the side) at a bookshop run by Mrs Hudson. The one downside to this perfect job is Sherlock Darling, Mrs Hudson's friend who loves to rile John up. About everything.

All that changes when they are forced to spend a week together in the country when bad weather hits. Sherlock's got secrets. What will John do once he finds them out?

Pencil Through My Heart by elwinglyre @elwinglyre

What’s worse? Sharing a byline with an arrogant consulting reporter or falling for him? Seasoned section editor John Watson faces this impossible choice. But first John must find him. Of course Holmes is out chasing the story of the century without him! In the process, Watson must reassess who and what he is, and even worse, admit he cares.

Aim for the Head by Breath4Soul

Sometimes you don't really find yourself until everything has ended. A fic about finding love, healing, and purpose after everything has gone to hell.

As if the doctor can read Sherlock's thoughts, he holds out a protein bar in the space between them. Sherlock’s eyes narrow on the man and flick to the bar with an expression of disgust. “You're at least one stone underweight,” the soldier states matter-of-factly, confirming for Sherlock, in yet another way, that he is a doctor. “Eating slows me down,” Sherlock grumbles. “No, fainting does.” The army doctor smiles kindly, patiently. Sherlock looks at him with confusion. “What do you care?” Sherlock snaps. The soldier’s smile deepens and he gives a casual shrug, turning his eyes to the road a moment. “You faint; we crash.” The soldier’s eyes slide back to Sherlock with their placid expression.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada, ShinySherlock @ishipanarmada

(also on pirate and mermaid AU rec list)

Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose--is it a pirate's life for him?

Dive by FinAmour @finamour

It’s John’s third year of studying abroad at Harvard, and he’s still struggling to fit in. On a cold night in December, he finds his girlfriend with another man—and meets a tall, gorgeous bartender with horrible manners that he can’t stop thinking about. Just as John falls for him, madly, swiftly, deeply—the bartender disappears, and the bar unexpectedly shuts down. Unexplained occurrences begin to happen to John and his friends, and he slowly discovers the truth about the one he loves. Will he find him in time to tell him how he feels, and more importantly—can he keep him safe?

Synchronicity by Calais_Reno @calaisreno

Excerpt: John is just muttering some nonsense about bit different from my day when they enter the lab. A tall fellow with dark, curly hair is using a pipette to drop some liquid into a Petri dish. Hearing John’s voice, he looks up. Sherlock Holmes. They both freeze for a moment. He stares into those grey eyes that haven’t changed, still seeing every detail. Holmes gives a tiny smirk. “Afghanistan or Iraq?” It’s been years, and he is surprised at how much it still hurts. Realising that he’s staring, he clears his throat, shuffles his feet, and mumbles something about an appointment he’s forgotten.

OR: John and Sherlock meet again, years after they were school boys together. John hasn't forgotten why he still hates Sherlock Holmes.

The Company He Keeps by wibblywobblytimeywimeystuff

At his lowest point, John Watson met Sherlock Holmes. And Sherlock saved him. At Sherlock's lowest point, he met Greg Lestrade. And they saved each other. This is how Greg met Sherlock, how he met Mycroft, and how he became important to them both.

Toe to Toe by standbygo @blogstandbygo

(also on soldier and spy AU rec list)

Sherlock Holmes is an international ballet star. After a favour for his brother goes south, he finds himself trapped in a foreign country, with a man named John Watson who could be an enemy... or an ally. A crossover of sorts with White Nights, the 1985 film with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines.

If Baker Street Could Talk by a_different_equation @adifferentequation

There is a thin wall between 221b and 221c. As if by fate, it has separated two sitting rooms that now are almost morphing back into one. One of the sitting rooms belongs to Sherlock Holmes (43), a pianist, while the other one belongs to Dr John H. Watson (45), whatever he might be after everything. John is a war hero, an ex-surgeon and a widower; John tells everyone that he is developing a game that might take a lifetime. There might be a wall between them, but Sherlock Holmes and John Watson cannot be separated.

#my fanfic recs #my fave Sherlock BBC AUs #my fave Sherlock BBC tropes #my fave AUs #enemies to friends to lovers

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hatsunevitu · 11 months

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okay so since the Cupid Ye was aired i’ve been constantly thinking about cartman’s mental condition. we know he’s probably taking medication now, so i hc him having antisocial personality disorder and bipolar disorder. and i’ve been imagining him having his depression episode for the first time after he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. he’s not used to it, he has no idea what’s going on and why he suddenly feels so tired and numb all the time, so he just stays at home skipping school and avoiding social contacts. he’s scared and the “it’s all because of your illness, poopsikins!” from his mother doesn’t help at all.

and sooo i wrote a short moment about this?? i’m sorry for any mistakes because it was originally written in my native language, not in english :(

***

Ever since early childhood it was clear and obvious to everyone that Eric Cartman had problems. Not even like that, Kyle corrected himself in his thoughts. Eric Cartman had Problems. Sociopathy, sadism, aggression – all that a person could notice in Cartman after only half an hour of communication.

And Kyle wasn't too surprised when bipolar disorder was added to all of the above in a sloppy psychiatrist’s handwriting.

By the time Cartman was finally diagnosed he had already gone through several phases of mania. Kyle even did a little research on the disorder. "To know what to prepare for the next time I meet this psycho," he told Stan. "And to know how to help him if necessary," he added silently to himself.

By the age of fifteen, Stan's company was already used to Cartman's regular explosive mood swings, which were accompanied by crazy ideas, aggressive behavior, and, if absolutely unlucky, deaths of a couple or more people.

It was typical: after a short break, Cartman would burst into Kyle's room (often through the window), start showering him with business plans, startup ideas, and opportunities to have extreme fun. Kyle was silent, trying his best to ignore him and frowning irritably when Cartman smiled ecstatically and rushed to Kyle, tugging at his sleeve and almost shouting that everything would be better this time and that it’s a one hundred percent successful scheme.

For some time Broflovski genuinely believed that everyone in their friends group was going through such tortures, but after a short questioning, he found out that they had not seen Eric's mania with their own eyes. Kyle understood — and they won’t, when Cartman just chuckled at the outraged "What the fuck, Fatass?" and replied, "I guess you're just special, Kahl. They wouldn't understand." His eyes flashed especially maliciously, and Kyle looked away hastily so as not to give Cartman the opportunity to start another fight.

Well, all in all, no one's world collapsed when Cartman was diagnosed with a new mental illness. Over the past months of insane hallucinations and obsessive intrusive thoughts, he managed to make everyone sick of him. He refused to go to the therapy sessions for a long time, shouting, running away and trying to get into a fight, and Liane was too afraid to find out another unpleasant truth about her son, preferring to go with the flow and shut him up with the fulfillment of every single of his whims. Kyle doubts that anyone would have done anything to help Cartman if he hadn't intervened. Why – it was unclear to Broflovski himself, but Cartman's first depressive phase hit them both unexpectedly too hard.

Disappearing from everyone’s sight for two weeks, Cartman ignored calls and messages (although Kyle had a serious doubt that anyone other than Butters and Broflovski himself texted him) and skipped school despite Mr. Harrison's threats of expulsion.

Liane avoided answering questions, pursing her lips in frustration and talking her way out with a trivial "He's sick." Kyle didn't believe a damn second, knowing that if Cartman was sick, Kyle would have known about it the very first. Something was wrong. For some reason, the desire to find out what exactly was much stronger than it should have been when it came to Eric Cartman.

***

Perhaps Kyle really shouldn't have worried so much — not to the point of climbing into Eric's window at night. But the Cartmans hadn't opened the front door all day, and by that time Kyle's nerves were so stretched that they threatened to break if he didn't get answers to his questions in the next few minutes. Disturbing thoughts and images of possible turn of events appeared in his head. Perhaps Cartman was dead? Or, on the contrary, has killed someone and had been dissolving dismembered body of his victim for two weeks? One option was no better than the other, but nothing was even close to what he saw in Eric's bedroom.

Haggard, seven kilograms thinner, with an unhealthy skin color and bags under his eyes, he looked painfully wrong, not Cartman-like. He didn’t look exactly ill — more like lifelessly tired. But that wasn't even what hit Kyle so hard.

He did not suspect how much had been hidden in Cartman's eyes before – lively fire, hatred, anger, enthusiasm, passion – all this was gone, dissolved, buried under this empty, dead, unblinking gaze. For a second Kyle even thought (hoped?) that he was really dead, but the heaving chest under the blanket and almost inaudible sound of breathing exposed life in Cartman. He was lying on his back, his head slowly turned towards the window. Kyle sought recognition on his face, but did not see a single shade of any emotions.

He froze in the window, making eye contact with Eric, feeling like he saw something he shouldn't have. He tried to revive the old familiar hatred that usually boiled in him as soon as their eyes met, but Cartman’s emptiness totally killed all the anger. Kyle climbed through the window – Cartman didn't react in any way, lazily closing his eyes – and walked up to the bed, touching his shoulder timidly.

“Hey, Cartman?” he said, shuddering at the way his voice echoed throughout the bedroom. Cartman didn’t open his eyes but smiled hardly visibly.

“Hey, jew”. His voice was empty and emotionless and Kyle pursed his lips with a bit of a pain.

“You need to see a doctor, Cartman”, he said firmly as Eric finally opened one eye disinterestedly. “I’ll help you. I promise”.

And he did.

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thedreadvampy · 5 months

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We had our team Christmas party/goodbye Ruth do today. and I need to show you what my friend at work made me for a leaving present because even for him it's a work of mad genius, I was just sitting there like WHAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING.

so you know, I get leaving gifts from my team, it's lovely, notebooks, pens, gift card, fond farewells, it's lovely, people say nice things about me

then my friend Zain says "I also got you something"

Now the thing to know about Zain is his party acumen is legendary. every year we're all resigned from the off to losing at Secret Santa because his gifts are insane. last year he made his secret santa a custom play set of one of our services in a branded box with tiny props. this year he made a custom Ken doll and box representing our colleague and it has a tiny collection bucket and a "collect them all!" sticker on the back where he'd found pictures of Barbies and Kens that looked like the rest of the Fundraising team. we'd just got done with a quiz where he made a custom video package, a Family Feud round with buzzers, and TWO Photoshop picture rounds. once. ONCE. we asked him to facilitate a team meeting and he wrote and animated a theme song. the man is insane. everything he does is so thoughtful, so labour intensive, and also so off the wall weird.

so I'm intrigued. especially since all he's holding is an envelope.

he says "I got you something. It's kind of an experience."

and hands me this letter.

(there's a bunch of good bits in here but I will particularly note that "It's going" has been his perpetual refrain for months every time I ask how it's going, to the point he usually doesn't even bother saying it any more.)

ok. I am confused. what is. THE DEVICE.

he puts THE DEVICE on the table. he hands me 4 cardboard floppy discs.

THE DEVICE is a large cardboard box. You will observe that THE DEVICE has an LED on the front. You may also observe that THE DEVICE has both a button. and a set of speaker holes.

this is because upon pushing the button on THE DEVICE, it makes a jaunty startup noise and an AI voice launches into a full minute setup speech before instructing me to load the included floppy discs into THE DEVICE. during the period of silence as I feed them into the slot, THE DEVICE says things like "ow, careful!"

THE DEVICE then makes loading noises, and instructors me to open THE DEVICE to see the contents of the discs.

inside the box, there are 4 gifts, each corresponding to a floppy disc and also to a conversation we've had at some point in the last 2.5 years.

this, of course, is in reference to my infamous Blobbyland post, and indeed to the fact that Zain, who is 3 years younger than me, actually FOUND OUT ABOUT MR BLOBBY from me taking about my popular Tumblr post

Gawrsh.zip references a conversation about Goofy dying in Kingdom Hearts, the first video game I remember finishing

EIGHT MONTHS AGO Zain asked me what my top 5 films of all time were and I said easy, Mirrormask, 10 Things, Angels In America, Everything Everywhere All At Once, Fury Road, boom. He's been just HOLDING THAT INFORMATION IN HIS HEAD FOR MONTHS.

the last one is my favourite. I was like oh no what could be in this poster tube cause what's left of the floppies is NIGHTMARE.EXE.

at my Halloween party last month, to which Zain was my only work friend who made it, we watched Nightmare on Elm Street and Zain, who had recently watched some video breakdowns on it, was pointing out humorous background details. and in the sleep therapist scene, both he and Tim pointed at the screen and started shouting TRAM CATS!!! and we were all losing our shit

the thing is there's a Very Weird poster in that scene. and now. now it's in my house also.

anyway I legit almost cried this may be the most unhinged and lovely gift that anyone has ever given me. I'm going to miss working with this weirdo so much.

#red said #OH i also won the quiz. by half a point. so i have a trophy also!

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princessmisery666 · 7 months

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Fake fic title: Wild Flowers at Sunset

Summary: Bucky uses an inopportune time to let you know how he feels about you.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: confident reader, Bucky being cocky (that’s a warning), sex work mentioned, prelude to smut, love confession.

W/C: 1,134.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, you, OMC.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: thank you @justagirlinafandomworld for the inspo (even thought it took a while to kick in 💟)

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch

Graphics: made by me on canva.

Master Lists: Made Up Fic Titles // Bucky Barnes // All The Fandoms

“You’re doing great,” Bucky talks into his glass, taking a sip of the amber liquid that is never going to get him drunk. “Guy’s putty in those beautiful hands of yours.” Though he’s sitting across the bar, you're wearing an earpiece. He has a clear view of you and sees the corner of your mouth quirk up slightly. Then he can’t help himself. “God, this dude is a loser,” he sighs, “He hasn’t even asked one question about you. No wonder he has to pay for it.”

There’s that half smirk again, hiding behind a sip of your Appletini - which he knows you hate - but your date insisted on ordering for you.

“Head of a tech startup company,” Bucky scoffs, “that’s code for I’m a keyboard warrior living in my Mom’s basement.”

You splutter around your glass, and your date, Oliver, has the sense to offer you a napkin. “Sorry,” you say to your date, voice as sweet as your drink, but the finger you use to scratch your cheek flips Bucky off, and then he’s the one laughing.

“Sorry, doll.” Though he really isn’t. He’s bored as hell and knows you are, too. But he signed up for this to make amends, help the police and all the other agencies with letters, and some without, to bring down the bad guys.

That’s how he’d met you, an undercover agent for the FBI. He felt like he’d lucked out when they’d introduced you as his handler. He didn’t like that word, and the grimace on his face must have said as such because you’d piped up - “We’re partners, Mr. Barnes. We have each other’s back. No one’s handling anyone,” you stated, looking directly at your boss. But as soon as you’d turned back to Bucky and winked, “The handling comes after hours,” he knew he was in for a wild time.

This Oliver guy is wanted in connection with a series of missing escorts. Back in Bucky’s day, no one cared about a missing prostitute, but times have changed, and the price has certainly increased. An intimate encounter with one of the ladies from “The Girlfriend Experience” - a very exclusive and high-end escort service - is upward of three thousand dollars for a few hours.

“So, roughly a thousand dollars a minute,” you’d shrugged, smirking cheekily.

“I’d get way more than my money’s worth,” he countered, tongue slipping out to lick at the flirty smile he gave you in return.

You’d sauntered closer, pressed your body into his, and whispered, “Oh, I’d let you take a turn for free.”

So here you are, on a date with Oliver, earning his trust and waiting for him to either A-say something incriminating (which was likely given his affinity for talking about himself) or B-offer you money for sex (a criminal offense).

But damn, this man is a drip. Watching paint dry would have been more entertaining, and Bucky felt deeply sorry for you having to fake a smile and flirt with such a wet blanket of a person.

“Go to the bathroom,” Bucky says.

You subtly shake your head, eyes never leaving Oliver’s, hanging on his every word.

“Just want to remind you, all of this is being recorded,” he grins, sees your eyes flick to his in the mirror, and lifts his brow, silently making his request again.

You look back to Oliver, lean in closer, place your hand atop his on the bar, and gently stroke your fingers along his skin. Bucky can feel the burn on his own skin, the scrape of your nails as your fingers trail higher with every delicate caress. Oliver grins widely. He thinks he’s got you, hook, line and sinker.

But Bucky knows better. “Hey Doll,” he says cheerily, “remember our first date?”

You give him nothing.

“I took you for a picnic on the beach. I wore that blue suit you like, and you wore the lilac dress that hugs you everywhere. I was worried you’d get cold, but I shouldn’t have. By dessert, we were as naked as the wildflowers dancing to the sunset…”

You abruptly hop off the bar stool, “Excuse me, Oliver. Need to use the ladies’ room.”

Bucky knows better than to be smug about getting his own way; he’ll pay for it later in some form or another, but he looks forward to his punishment.

“Pausing comms,” Bucky says, “bathroom break,” for when the brass listens later even though it's obvious what’s going on, but he doesn’t care as he taps the device in his pocket.

He counts forty-five seconds after you pass through the door toward the bathrooms and then follows after you. All three stall doors are closed, but only one of the dials shows occupied. Before he can lift his hand to knock, the door opens, and you yank him inside.

“You’re pushing your luck, Barnes,” you warn.

He surrenders, arms up, palms out. “It was the only way I could get you in here.”

“For what?”

“This.” His fingers pinching your chin are soft, but the kiss he delivers is anything but. He’s famished, as if he hasn’t tasted you in weeks when, in reality, it’s only been a few hours. But that’s how you make him feel. With every beat of his heart, he’s wild and aching and destitute until he has you in his grasp.

The Appletini is still heavy on your tongue, and he washes it away with hungry sweeps of his whiskey-laced one. His hands slip down your leg to the hem of your skirt, hiking it up with every squeeze and grope of your soft thigh.

Your hands roam under his shirt, nails digging into his stomach, before slipping down to the waistband of his jeans.

He holds back a groan when he reaches your inner thigh and finds no more material between his hand and your heated core.

You pull back, a wicked grin revealing your teeth, and as he opens his mouth to tell you that you’ll be the death of him, you stuff your panties into his mouth.

You step back, readjusting your dress, “You can get me as naked as those wildflowers again later.” You wink. “Right now, we have a job to do.”

With that, you breeze out of the door and back to your date.

He waits sixty seconds after you leave, stuffing your panties into his jacket pocket and giving his cock a chance to realize his punishment came earlier than expected before he follows after you.

He settles back into his barstool, catches your eye in the mirror, and the feeling tingles from the very tips of his toes to the top of his head, serenity, calm, absolute, unwavering belief. He mutters, “I love you,” into the coms.

Oliver ends up wearing your Appletini.

Master Lists: Made Up Fic Titles // Bucky Barnes // All The Fandoms

Tags: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @nancymcl / @stoneyggirl2 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @dempy / @kmc1989

Tags Info - My tag lists are open. Please complete this form. You don’t need a google account to fill it in. Using the form makes it easier to track.

💟Alternatively follow my library blog and turn on notifications. I only post my fics. @princessmisery666-library

#bucky barnes #made up fic titles #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #flirty bucky #marvel #mcu #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #fluff #fun #fluffy fun #mild smut #just a smidge

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five-rivers · 10 months

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Life's Great Lie 17

AO3

“Oh, thank God,” said Tony, “Bruce is here.” All the other green, angry looking people were secondary, as far as he was concerned. Having the Hulk on hand meant that he didn’t have to play Jonah again. That had been. Unpleasant.

A dart of red broke off the crowd of ghosts and angled towards Tony. Valerie Gray. And Bruce, too. As Bruce.

“Where do you want us?” shouted Valerie.

“Take your pick!” shouted Tony, even as he lined up more shots. He was going to be running out of all but the special anti-ghost ordinance soon. “But—Bruce, you’re going to have to suit up.”

“Of course,” said Bruce, rubbing his face. “Yeah. Okay. You would call it that. Miss Gray, if you could take me up towards one of those… big things…” He gestured vaguely at the space whales.

“Cool!” said Tony, giving them a thumbs up. “Now, all we need to do is get a shield around the portals, and we can roll up the streets. No problem!”

“Sir,” said Jarvis. “You may want to look at the Ops Center.”

What was going on now? He turned and watched the shield around the airship flicker once, twice, and then go out completely. The chitauri, who apparently were smart enough to smell blood in the water, regardless of any other tactical deficiencies, changed direction.

“Well, that’s not good. Anyone want to fill me in on what’s going wrong?”

“Well,” started Jasmine Fenton.

“What happened to the thing being self-sustaining?” demanded Natasha as she punched out another mercenary. Where had Loki even found these guys? They weren’t even mind controlled. Who in their right mind signed up to fight for the aliens in a literal alien invasion?

“Listen,” said Maddie Fenton, a little testily, “we quite literally built it on the fly. It isn’t operating at peak theoretical efficiency, but it’s a testament to Jack’s engineering skills that we got it to work at all, much less while also trying to come up with a workable solution for the shields. Be glad we have enough power to keep the portal open, even.”

“Forget the shields,” interrupted Tucker, his voice crackling slightly. The Fentons’ communicators weren’t bad, and apparently they worked through the ‘spectral noise’ associated with ghosts, but they left something to be desired in comparison to the crystal-clear communications Natasha had gotten used to while working for SHIELD. “Well, no, don’t forget them, forget them, we might still be able to—I’ve got— What’s your name again, dude? —I’ve got Selvig up here, and he says that if we can get Loki’s staff, we can shut down his portal.”

“Great!” shouted Steve. “Anyone have eyes on Loki?”

The answer to that was, of course, a resounding no.

“Oi, Tucker, you want to run by that thought you had about the shields again?”

Under other circumstances, Tucker might have been over the moon. Tony Stark, asking him about something technical! It was like a dream come true!

But between the mind control, the alien invasion, and whatever was going on with SHIELD and HYDRA, Tucker’s enthusiasm for anything was pretty much nil. So.

“Uh,” said Tucker. He and Selvig were standing in front of Loki’s portal device. Well. Tucker was sort of crouching, and Selvig was… sprawled. That couldn’t be a good position for a guy that old, but whatever. “So, Loki got the startup power for this thing from the, uh, the tower’s arc reactor, right? So, it’s still plugged in. The connection is live, and it looks like he used standard connectors. Not, you know, a twelve-gauge extension cord, but Earth-made. I think maybe we can use it to charge up the shields and use one here as the centerpiece – the power source – instead of the one in the Ops Center. If it’s, like compatible. Is that a thing we can do? Mrs. Fenton?”

“Well, it isn’t impossible,”she said. “But those portable shield relays – they weren’t made as independent shield generators, and for them to run on something other than ectoplasm – Jack, sweetie, do we still have those blueprints? – Thanks. Alright, Tucker, you’ll have to make significant adjustments to the shield relay, probably even cannibalize one of them. Are you able to do that?”

“Well,” said Tucker. “Maybe? I’ve got a lipstick laser and…” He looked over his shoulder. “Selvig. Sort of. But if it’s anything more complicated than rewiring the Speeder’s main gun to fire from the backseat window console, I’m going to need a bunch of tools and a science guy who isn’t dead on his feet. No offense.”

Selvig waved him off.

“You’re the one who—? Never mind. It is more complicated. Quite a bit more complicated.”

“I’ll also need, you know, the generators. Relays?”

“I’m still on my way,” said Romanov. She sounded… upset.

“And so am I,” said Iron Man. “Kid, I’ve got all sorts of tools in my apartment. And dummy, too.”

Okay. Cool. Also, what did dummies have to do with anything? Was that rich people code for something?

“Okay, want to give me directions, or am I supposed to just start pulling out drawers?”

“Hey! Where’re you going?”

“You need more cover,” said Sam. “This is what I have the jetpack for, remember? Arrow boy isn’t going to get all of them, and they do have ranged weapons.”

It was true, one well-aimed shot through the Ops Center envelope could send the whole thing down. They weren’t using hydrogen gas, of course, but an ectoplasm-nitrogen mix, so there was no danger of becoming Hindenburg Mk II, unless the aliens’ energy weapons reacted really badly with ectoplasm, but there hadn’t been any evidence of that yet, so…

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Jazz was too busy keeping the Ops Center and the portal steady to do much else.

“Be careful,” she said.

“Can’t make any promises!”

Fury was having a bad day. A really, monumentally, bad day. One that was part of an already awful week but still managed to go above and beyond in terms of how completely awful it was.

Primarily, he blamed HYDRA. They were very easy to blame and were, in his opinion, responsible for at least seventy percent of the metric ton of crap he was currently wading through.

But then, then he got a call.

The call.

Which meant that he had to take this boat riddled with snakes to fight off an alien invasion over New York. Peachy.

If ever he’d been tempted to give old friends a call… But he wouldn’t. Not yet.

“Sir,” said Coulson, joining him smoothly as he walked down the hallway toward the main bridge.

“What’d you find?”

“We have problems, sir. Using the head start we were given, I’ve found no less than seventy problem areas on this ship… and some indications that the World Security Council may have similar issues. We also have to assume there are unseen variables at play.”

Fury did not miss a step. Benefit of being a cynical bastard. The WSC was a shock, and a disaster on multiple levels, but the other number was… livable. “Are there any particular personnel involved in these problems?”

“STRIKE teams seem to have an unusually high number of incidents. Upwards of ninety percent.”

Fury strode onto the bridge. “Tell the STRIKE teams to prepare to mobilize and pilots to scramble.” Uriah gambits were unpleasant… but if he could kill two birds with one stone, he would, and he wouldn’t feel bad about it. “What kind of air power are we looking at?”

“Significant,” said a comm. tech who was flipping through different news programs. “They seem to have biologically based technology of some kind, weaponry is mainly energy-based, propulsion… unclear.”

Wonderful. Fury scanned the other screens, trying to get a better picture of what, exactly, was happening in New York. What tactics the enemy was using, what numbers they had, what resistance had been put up so far and by whom.

“Sir,” said Agent Hill. “The council is on.”

The council. The same one Coulson had just told him was infiltrated by HYDRA. The same one that would probably find a way to make their present situation all the more untenable and Fury’s day infinitely worse.

It was a pity he couldn’t ignore them.

“Put them on.”

Pandora hissed at the sting of the enemies’ weapons. They were not ectoblasts, no, but there was the taste of something like magic to them, and energy was energy. Still, they were not enough to damage her unduly, although they might prove troublesome, dangerously so, for the weaker ghosts of their force.

But that was the nature of war. Few battles were won without bloodshed.

Her warriors should otherwise be a match for the chitauri. The chitauri had numbers, doubtlessly, but her warriors had experience. And once Frostbite and Dorathea lead their forces onto the battlefield, well… She could not estimate the number of enemies. She had been told that they came from the stars, and those lands were numerous to the point of being innumerable. Even so, there was a limit to passage through a choke point, and even the stars themselves may not turn things in the favor of a commander caught in one, no matter their numbers.

But the ghosts, too, must pass through a portal. Pandora eyed the slight waver in the portal’s outline with disfavor. She was no expert in such matters, but many years of existence had given her some intuition for how portals should behave. This one was stable enough, but not for long.

All the more reason to resolve things quickly.

“Hunter,” she said.

“What?” snapped the mechanical man, the burnished plates of his armor flashing in the Sun.

“Your task. Find Phantom. Free him from whatever compulsion he is under.” Although Phantom still had much to learn, he was undeniably powerful. Returning him to his proper allegiance would

Skulker looked away from the beast he was dismembering with some reluctance. “Fine. Dog. Come here.”

The dog ignored him. As it was Phantom’s, and Skulker hadn’t made the effort to learn its name, that was really no surprise. Still, Skulker gestured at it. It, in turn, bounded away, yipping.

“Are you, or are you not, the greatest hunter in the Infinite Realms? Find him with or without the dog.”

Skulker grumbled but flew off. Good.

Pandora manifested a joint in her neck just long enough to crack it and drummed her fingers on the lid of her box. It had been too long, far too long, since she had engaged in a proper battle against evil, and the more vicious of the leviathans flying through the air looked like they would, at least, give her a challenge.

Thor had become more open-minded since his short stay on Earth, with Dr. Selvig, Darcy, and… Dr. Jane Foster. Truly. But he had to admit, these ghosts were unnerving. Too similar by far to the draugr that had ofttimes haunted the stories of bards – the ones that made his father glare and try to shoo away both Thor and Loki.

He had to find his brother. Soon. With all that had happened, with how, exactly, Loki had behaved, he believed, truly believed Daniel Fenton’s assertion Loki was being controlled, somehow.

It was a foul thing, to put such a geas on a prince of Asgard… Although, to be fair, putting a geas on anyone was foul. It just seemed especially foul to Thor, that someone should do it to his brother.

Loki had, perhaps, never been quite so good as one might hope, but he had always been… himself, as vague as that description was. Even when he’d been consumed by madness, letting jotnar into Asgard, sending the Destroyer after people on Earth, he had still been himself.

Thor did not like this new version of Loki, who was very much… It was like seeing his brother through a warped pane of glass, or in a reflection. In fact, he liked it so little that he couldn’t even enjoy the utter destruction he was wrecking on the chitauri, lightning, head-crushing, and all. Not that he had been enjoying combat quite as much as he once did in general.

The price of being worthy, he presumed.

Alas.

A bright green flying dog whipped past him at speed, heading towards the tower. He narrowed his eyes at it. Most of the ghosts had stayed concentrated around the portals. What cause had this one to stray?

But he could not go investigate. He could still hear the screams of the civilians cornered in the buildings nearby. He would not leave them to fend for themselves until he had cleared this street.

Danny and Loki would both have preferred to use the elevators. Unfortunately, significant parts of the main upper elevator shaft had been repurposed for extension-cable-from-hell-powering-up-a-doomsday-device purposes, and no one wanted to mess with that, and the military-type guys they still had with them recommended shutting them off from a tactical perspective of ‘there’s more of them then there are of us, and we don’t want to guard them all.’ So. No elevators.

Danny could have just dropped them through the floor instead, but Loki seemed concerned about the effect serially dropping through floors had on Danny.

Or, well, the effect that the effect it had on Danny was having on him, in any case.

“I refuse to get stuck in a ceiling again. I am a god. I am to be treated with some degree of gravitas.”

“It was one time. You should’ve seen what I was like when I first got my powers.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Year and a half ago, about.”

Anyway, they were taking the stairs. Danny wasn’t really upset about it, because it gave him more time to be annoying. Right now, he was in the midst of a recital of all the ‘annoying younger sibling’ noises he had ever made. Right now, he was working on ‘long drawn out sighs,’ which had really been a hit with Jazz, when he’d been eight. Which was to say, she hated them. A lot.

And Loki didn’t seem to a have a lot of tolerance, either.

“What,” he snapped, “are you doing?”

“Nothing,” said Danny, enjoying the way Loki’s face pinched up, as if he were searching for a way to order him to stop without really screwing up his other orders…

… speaking of which, could Danny have interpreted ‘get me out of here’ to mean ‘get me out of New York?’ Maybe. But at this point, there were plenty of reasons to want them both in New York, including--

Danny’s train of thought derailed as he noticed the sound of footsteps echoing up the stairwell. He looked down and then threw himself backwards as a redheaded woman – Romanov – brought a gun to bear on him. She fired, twice, in quick succession. Wow. Rude. And pretty brutal, too, but then again, New York was being invaded by aliens. And she knew about his powers.

(Hecking Fury, telling people about his powers.)

Although, considering trajectories… no, he was too sleep deprived to consider trajectories.

He grabbed Loki’s arm, intending to drop them through the floor.

“No, wait,” said Loki. “Let’s see what the Widow wants.” There was a malicious, almost cruel, edge to his voice, but there was a hollowness underneath it. He did want to see why Black Widow, Natasha Romanov, was here, but the tone, the phrasing, was just to rile her up.

Or to appear as if he wanted to rile her up. Danny hadn’t listened to all the things Barton and Loki had discussed – too busy freaking out about the whole situation vis a vis mind control and alien invasions – but he hadn’t gotten the impression she was all that easy to rile up.

But Danny had his orders. And he still had to defend Loki. Ice began to spread out from under his feet. It was a bit sluggish, but it would give him the terrain advantage as far as maneuvers went. The Widow kicked open the door on her landing and rolled out, into the floor beyond, staying more or less out of direct line of fire for both Danny and Loki.

“I have eyes on Loki,” she said, out loud.

“Crap,” said Tony, tossing the box to the Foley kid. “Sorry, got to go, but hey!” He was already heading for the edge of the roof. “Maybe we won’t even need that if we do this right!”

Black Widow definitely been looking for them, which wasn’t surprising, but what was she carrying? The bag was bulky and angular. A weapon? If so, why hadn’t she used it?

Loki stepped out past Danny but stayed well within Danny’s ability to grab – or drop through the floor, if necessary. Making the floor intangible instead was a valid strategy.

“What is it you want, Widow? Natasha Romanov?”

Romanov, meanwhile, had disappeared, almost as thoroughly as Danny could. He tilted his head to one side, listening. This floor, it seemed, had been imagined as semi-open lab space. There were long work benches, empty places for equipment, some kind of robotic arm in the ceiling, and a cart full of plastic-wrapped computers, monitors and towers together.

It was kind of cool. There were a lot of places to hide.

“Is this… revenge? For Barton?” Loki’s smile was sharp. “He told me much about you, and I suppose Stark mentioned avenging this place.” Two false images split off from Loki to prowl among the lab tables. “It suits you better than it does him. But don’t you think it somewhat… hypocritical?”

“Okay, Romanov, here’s how it is. Loki likes illusions? Let’s give him an illusion.”

Danny saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye and angled himself to intercept, but no attack came.

“After all… you’ve done so much… so much that others would be more than justified retaliating for, don’t you think? All those regime changes, shall we call them? And Barton’s no better, really.” He hummed. “The things you two did together. Drakov’s daughter? Sāo Paulo? The hospital fire? And you think taking vengeance on me will change anything? You think it will make you some sort of hero? Give you peace? When you—”

One of the doors flew open, revealing Iron Man. Who plowed through one fake Loki (Faki? Fauki? Fauxki? Meh, he’d workshop it.) and swerved to shoot one of his repulsors at another. Romanov popped up from behind a table and threw something at the feet of the real Loki, who crushed it with his heel, ignoring the sparks of electricity that flew up off of it.

Danny batted Romanov back with a shield, straight into the cart of computers, which fell down on her. Ouch. But she’d be able to get back up and into the fight. The important thing was that, right now, she wasn’t an immediate threat, which meant he could ignore her.

Give her time.

If she hadn’t wanted something, she would have run, kept hiding. Just these few minutes – She was a shield agent, sure, but she had to have some kind of specialty in—

Anti-ghost missiles were a lot harder to avoid in such a small place, especially when distracted. Danny hissed as one impacted his shoulder and splattered green all over his shirt, but he caught the next, and threw it back at Iron Man. He tried to phase off the green goo, but it wouldn’t go. It had to be some of that phase-proof stuff his parents had been working on. Nasty stuff.

Although, he had to be grateful it had only given him a bruise and hadn’t been mixed with something that would melt him. It gave him hope for his future relationship with his parents.

In the meantime, it definitely limited his options regarding protecting Loki and just removing themselves from the situation without getting into more destructive behavior.

He hoped Iron Man knew what he was doing… for everyone’s sake.

The missile exploded right in front of Iron Man’s mask, splattering him with green goo. Danny had no idea what kind of sensor array he had, but that would probably buy at least a little time as he adjusted it to compensate for the eye-holes of his mask being covered up.

He turned back to Loki, only to see another Iron Man grab the staff from him.

Only for that Loki and that staff to dissolve into the air.

Loki, the real Loki, stopped being invisible and laughed. “Oh, that was good, that was very good.” Not only was this Loki real, his smile might have been as well. “But you didn’t think you could fool me, did you?”

Danny flicked invisible, noting with disfavor that the green goo stayed visible when he did so, and moved closer to Loki, fending off attacks. Two Iron Men – Where did the second person come from? Was it Barton, in a suit? Someone else entirely? The War Machine person? Danny couldn’t remember his name. – and Romanov together was a bit of a challenge for Danny to keep track of, given his present mental state.

Luckily, however, one of the two suits, the first one, didn’t seem to have nearly the tactical awareness of the other. He’d say it was Stark in the second suit, the fresher-looking one… the one without any form of ghost proofing Danny could detect.

Danny swiped an intangible arm through the suit, cleaving through delicate wires as he did so, but leaving warm, human flesh untouched. Several pieces of armor fell away, revealing a band t-shirt, but not the whole thing. Interesting.

Romanov threw a Fenton Ghost Zapper at him. Loki knocked it out of the air, the sharp end of the scepter cutting it in two as he did so. Iron Man – the one he was pretty sure was Tony Stark – tried to grab it again, even as Loki pivoted to try and catch Black Widow with it. Danny used that as a pretext to pull Loki back, away from Black Widow. They did not need her under control. Nope.

But… they wanted the staff. They wanted the staff now.

Selvig must have gotten knocked free. He must have told them, one of them, about his safeguards.

If one of these three could get the staff, get back to the top of the tower… Then it would be over. They’d have won.

“Director Fury, the council has made a decision.”

Fury flexed his fingers behind his back. “I recognize the council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.” It’s what he’d say if he hadn’t learned what he’d just learned. If HYDRA wasn’t threaded through every element of SHIELD like a deadly parasite. If this sounded more like a simple fear-driven overreaction and less like a way to destroy one of HYDRAs most famous enemies and his new and very powerful allies?

“Director, despite your shocking negligence, bordering on dereliction, you’re closer than any of our subs. You scramble that jet—”

“That is the island of Manhattan, councilman.” Although considering that HYDRA, in the person of Red Skull, had tried to blow it up in the past, he wasn’t sure that would sway them. Until I’m certain my team can’t hold them—”

“There are two armies of alien origin, emerging from portals above that island. If we don’t—”

“I will not order a nuclear strike against a civilian population, much less the densest population in the United States. And the other army is an ally.”

“Based on what intelligence? Based on what invitation? That of someone already suborned by Loki?”

“If we don’t hold them in the air,” added another councilmember, “we lose. We lose everything.”

“If I send that bird out, we already have.”

“Director Fury is no longer in command. Override order, seven, alpha, eleven.”

“Sorry, sir,” said the pilot, who had just taken his seat. He watched with some trepidation as Agent Coulson led a pair of his colleagues away. This was all very irregular. “I’m not familiar with that code.”

There was a pause. “What’s your name, son?”

Cujo frolicked through the city. It was loud, yes, but nothing he hadn’t been in training for while alive, and nothing he hadn’t experienced while dead. So, a non-issue, obviously.

The actual issue? His person had just thrown a stick. Obviously, Cujo had to go fetch it.

#danny phantom #dp/mcu #dp/marvel #op!danny/marvel #life's great lie

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kccinstitutes · 7 months

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Guest lecture on "Building the Next Unicorn"

Mr. Naresh Gupta, CTO, Techrupt Innovations, delivered an inspiring guest lecture on "Building the Next Unicorn" to BCA, BBA, and B. Com students at KCC Institute of Legal and Higher Education . Mr. Gupta, an accomplished entrepreneur, shared essential insights for startup success, emphasizing the importance of innovative ideas, flawless execution, effective team building, customer-centricity, funding strategies, and global scaling. He stressed the need for resilience and a growth mindset. The lecture provided valuable guidance for aspiring entrepreneurs and left students with a renewed sense of determination to contribute to the world of startups and innovation.

guest lecture on "Building the Next Unicorn"

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 9 months

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Purrfection

<<Part 2 [can also be read as standalone] MASTERLIST

Anon ask: "Ahoy can you make a Purrfect Distraction part 3 where we finally kiss our bae?"

Summary: You're on an important mission, that's all you can say. Superheroes + needing to kiss to hide from bad guys (modified a bit) Tags: Undercover missions, kissing A/N: sorry I'm a bit in the middle of some things rn so i hope the wait is worth it! :) enjoy!