#oif

[sgtgrunt0331-3]

U.S. Navy SEAL, Chris Kyle, takes a moment to pose for a photo with his sniper rifle during one of his four deployments to Iraq. He remains the deadliest sniper in American military history with over 150 confirmed kills.

Kyle survived his 4 tours in Iraq, but would be killed at a Texas gun range on February 2, 2013, by a veteran he was trying to help overcome PTSD.

Fair winds and following seas, Legend. You will never be forgotten.

[nocternalrandomness]

U.S. Army Black Hawk preparing to lift of from Kabul International Airport, Afghanistan - 31 October 2006

[theenlightenedoutlaw]

[iyawnuk]

First post on Tumblr, heck yeah. A little doodle of Celestia in 2003 OIF gear >.<

[copingchaos]

Who will fall for their lies any longer? The oppressors paint everyone who doesnt stand with them as Hamas. They now condemned UN/UNRWA members...on the same day the ICJ came to a preliminary verdict in which they "recalled"/used several testimonies of UN/UNRWA members to rule that israel needs to take provisional measures in order to prevent a genocide (in other words, the current circumstances may already consistute or give rise to a violation of the genocide convention).

[shai-manahan]

Happy new year!!!

I was wondering about the flip side of the previous “i wish iInever met you” ask: how would the ROs react to MC telling them “I wish I never met you” instead?

Okay so uhhhh a reverse of this one huh

Anyway, it's under the cut if you really want to see it. (yes I know. I'm like. over a month late lmao and yes I am aware it's valentine's but oh well.)

Alonzo:

They weren't supposed to be so surprised.

They weren't supposed to be so speechless, unable to push their words out.

They weren't supposed to feel so hurt. Like their insides have been carved out. Like their world has just been turned upside down.

Like they've just lost something important.

Yet, their gaze is pulled towards the person before them. At those firm, unyielding eyes. So cold. So cruel.

Their hands tremble, wishing to touch the other's.

Their feet grow uneasy, yearning to step closer.

But when they regain their senses, when they feel in control once more, it is only their lips that move, uttering in a soft, grieving voice, "Why would you want that?"

Wesley:

"I know."

It's two simple words, and they don't trust themself to say more. They've been taught how to pretend, sure—look at the other person's eyes, straighten your back, pull the barriers up as you don the mask—but they know.

Wesley knows they can't trust themself. Wesley knows how close they are to the breaking point. That these are the only words they can say, lest they let themself turn back into their weak, pathetic self.

They can't trust themself, so they let their partner make the choice.

Leave. Stay.

They never let their sister make that decision before.

They'd make that mistake no longer.

Owen:

He searches their eyes, their movements, the very air that surrounds them. Looking for a sign. Looking for an answer.

"You don't really mean that, do you?" he asks shakily, a crack in his voice present as he pleads for what he wants to hear. "I know you don't mean it."

But he receives no answer. Only a glare full of hatred yet full of pain—a warning, meant for him and only him. Owen doesn't want to believe it, of course. How could he? After all, the others were meant to be wrong about their partner, weren't they?

"You'd be standing in front of a lynx," they said.

"The Ripper will never be whom you wish them to be," they added.

He never believed any of those, even after everything that has happened to him. To his family. To the life that was once his.

And yet here he is, blinking his tears away, looking at the person he loves, waiting for them to change their mind.

Jade:

It comes along like a cold water poured over her at first, the realization.

Jade prides herself in figuring out the possibilities. The things that could go wrong. The betrayals that could occur. Years of having to walk a thin line between life and death has done that to her, and she's never flinched in front of danger.

Today, she does.

Today, something she did not expect has occurred. Something she once feared but threw away, because why would she think that things would go this way? That the person she loved—loves—would believe that none of it has been worth it?

Was it her family? Was it her past? She can't figure it out, and that scares her.

"Think about it," she says, because there's nothing else she knows she could say. Letting out a deep breath, composing herself as much as she can, she grabs for her partner's clothes, pulling them close. "Think about it before you say that again."

It's almost pleading, the way she says it, a tone that she wishes her partner couldn't hear.

[todaysdocument]

A US Army Soldier assigned to the 3rd Infantry Division, Headquarters and Headquarters Battalion, Division Artillery, smiles and holds her daughter in her arms after her return from Iraq, on July 17, 2003. 

Record Group 330: Records of the Office of the Secretary of Defense

Series: Combined Military Service Digital Photographic Files

Image description: A woman in a sand-colored camouflage Army uniform holds a small girl (preschool-aged) on her hip and gazes at her. In the background are other military members embracing their families.

[casposters]

(via Stu Shepherd Art - Fine Art America)