OutXOfXBulletz
As of now, I’m becoming [probably] temporarily inactive. Sorry folks, a lot’s hit me IRL, and I tried keeping up, but I can’t. So, this is probably just a minor, temporary, thing.

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@weaponized-sarcasm-blog
OutXOfXBulletz
As of now, I’m becoming [probably] temporarily inactive. Sorry folks, a lot’s hit me IRL, and I tried keeping up, but I can’t. So, this is probably just a minor, temporary, thing.
shieldsstrongest
“We thought of using the food to bash in heads considering how frozen and hard it was.”
“Yeah, well, I thought about using my cock in the same way before, doesn’t count if you didn’t do it.” He fired back with a smirk.
shieldsstrongest
“Considering my team actually made a bomb from it?”
“We used to do that shit for fun.” He countered, leaning forward, then, before pushing up and going to fill his cup with more bourbon!
“Something that isn’t nearly frozen,” she rebutted as she rolled her eyes.
“Ours were basically room temps. Came with sterno sometimes. Hell, you could make bombs out of the MREs.” He said with a snort.
“It was the worst back in the day.”
“You wanna fight about it?” He smirked then, taunting the living legend.
When she finally opened her eyes, her brow furrowed trying to figure out where she was. Her hands moved to either side of her body as she tried to push herself up into a sitting position but the pain in her side made her fall back down to the bed. As she did she was suddenly aware of her exposed body and she scrambled to pull the blanket back up.
The quiet mewling of a cat, from the corner of the room, might light up her ears. Black, rough looking, the green eyed feline just watched her from a chest of drawers. She wasn’t alone, more than likely. The couch to the side looked slept on, and from downstairs, there was the sound of off key singing, a pan sizzling, and the smell of ...food. Meat, and eggs, more than likely.
weaponized-sarcasm:
The shrieking, the palpable energy of that fucking portal being forced close. He felt the energy pour from his body in response, shaking from the influx of it as it passed him. Still. He felt her, felt her give it her all and because of that, he dropped back and wrapped an arm around her while his other braced his rifle, to make sure she was supported by him while his other arm held that rifle in an offensive measure, using the pistol grip, the crook of his arm, and the sling to keep it effective in his one armed stance. They’d be fine, he’d make fucking sure of it, if it was the last thing he’d do.
As the portal closed, Mave felt it sap the last of the energy from her body. Without Dietrich there to support her she no doubt would have fallen over. Closing her eyes she leaned back against him the last of the demons screams echoing as they flickered out of existence. “Done,” she murmured just loud enough for him to hear. As long as they actually had taken out everyone who’d been working on the portal when they came in, they should be finished. Her ears listened, waiting for some other sort of noise but nothing seemed to come. Though they were heavy, she slowly opened her eyes and looked around. She could feel the sting where the demon’s claws had torn her open. Normally she’d use her magic and heal herself but right now even that seemed as though it would be far too much work.
His arms wrapped around her, letting the rifle drop onto its sling as he clutched her to him, at least for now, putting the heat of his frame against her own. She was tired, he knew that, hell he was tired. “C’mon Witchy. You’re not dying on me tonight.” He muttered against her hair almost affectionately, refusing to let her go, refusing to release her. “Just lean on me, use me for support, and we’ll get the fuck out of here.”
weaponized-sarcasm:
.As it got dark? She’d feel someone putting pressure on her wound… Though, whoever, or whatever, was doing it? It didn’t stop her from passing out. Still, when she woke up? She’d find that she was alive and well, in a clean bed, without her clothes on, underneath a blanket. Her side was wrapped up, her wound was stitched, and for the most part? She was alive! Like a Christmas miracle!
She didn’t want to open her eyes, everything hurt. Groaning she pushed the blankets down to her hips, her body shifting on the bed. The motion pulled a soft whimper from her lips.
The room was quiet, warm enough, but quiet. A window was off to the side, closed but the blinds were open to let the sun in. Morning, maybe. No groans of the dead, no sounds of gunfire in the distance. It was quiet, and it also, most definitely, was not the gun shop she’d been shot in.
“Something that isn’t nearly frozen,” she rebutted as she rolled her eyes.
“Ours were basically room temps. Came with sterno sometimes. Hell, you could make bombs out of the MREs.” He said with a snort.
Her lashes fluttered, muscles tensing as he reached out to touch her. When he gave her two options, she instinctively pulled back at the mention of the second. He would kill her? Just like that? “I-I-” she started again. She was finding it difficult to stay focused now. Her head spinning. “Nmmh,” the sounds seemed to slur together, her lips no longer working how she wanted them to. A darkness was starting to ebb away at her sight.
.As it got dark? She’d feel someone putting pressure on her wound... Though, whoever, or whatever, was doing it? It didn’t stop her from passing out. Still, when she woke up? She’d find that she was alive and well, in a clean bed, without her clothes on, underneath a blanket. Her side was wrapped up, her wound was stitched, and for the most part? She was alive! Like a Christmas miracle!
shieldsstrongest
Bucky looked at the beer before shrugging and grabbing one. She removed the cap easily with her metal hand before taking a swig of it.
“Heh. You’ll have to excuse the whole.. No animal by products lifestyle. I married a vegan, she forcefully converted me.” Snorting as he adjusted on the couch. “Never really went back to it after she passed.”
“I’ll survive. You should’ve tried the food back in the War. It was horrible,” she replied as she sat down. “Sorry about your wife.”
“Pretty sure Army chow’s always sucked, and it’ll continue to suck.” Amused, he just sort of rolled his shoulders, his smirk dropping when she said sorry. “Don’t be. She lived her life the way she wanted, right up ‘till the end.”
“Yeah, but it’s more likely to be fresher and warm now,” she reminded him as she looked over at him. “That’s good at least.”
“A hot meal? What’s that like, Grandma?” Trying not to crack up as he teased the older soldier.
“Open your mouth. Wider.”
@weaponized-sarcasm
“Make me.”
weaponized-sarcasm:
“It’s gonna hurt if I do, Darce.”
“Oh yeah tough guy?” She raised her brow at him.
“A lot.” He said with a wry grin. “Maybe more than you want it to.”
shieldsstrongest
Bucky looked at the beer before shrugging and grabbing one. She removed the cap easily with her metal hand before taking a swig of it.
“Heh. You’ll have to excuse the whole.. No animal by products lifestyle. I married a vegan, she forcefully converted me.” Snorting as he adjusted on the couch. “Never really went back to it after she passed.”
“I’ll survive. You should’ve tried the food back in the War. It was horrible,” she replied as she sat down. “Sorry about your wife.”
“Pretty sure Army chow’s always sucked, and it’ll continue to suck.” Amused, he just sort of rolled his shoulders, his smirk dropping when she said sorry. “Don’t be. She lived her life the way she wanted, right up ‘till the end.”
—- “ What’s my job then if you get to take one? “ The question is almost impatiently asked & her heart rate accelerates in anticipation; part of her hopes he’ll send her out to get the other one – but a slight clutching of her stomach has her worry he might leave her back to watch; & in any other situation, she’d love voyeurism but he’s managed to make her quit her job, climb up the roof &teased her so horribly much that he couldn’t do anything worse to her than to force her into playing damsel in distress. What he may think of her oddly intense excitement is considered absolutely his problem, also; not hers & so the hand is taken only after a short delay, eyes still intrigued by his plan. “ Jules Aydın. “
“Make sure I don’t get stabbed or shot in the process.” He said with a tilt of his head to the side. No, he wasn’t asking her to play damsel, no. He was raising a hand up to his ankle, tugging out the Smith and Wesson Model 60 from its boot holster, and without a word? He held it out to her sideways. It’d dawned on him that there was a possibility that this was a trap, that she could be workin’ with them, but fuck it. He’d cross that bridge when it came to it. “No pussyin’ out now, J. No pussyn’ out now.”
w/ @weaponized-sarcasm
First impressions were everything—or, so her mother liked to say. Unfortunately, Emily had never been the type to make good first impressions. She still wasn’t sure if it was accidental on her part, or an unconscious rebellion against her sweet, ol’ mom.
She sat in a beaten down blue truck outside of Bloodbath and Beyond, windows rolled down and elbow leaning haphazardly on the edge. Logic told her that there was probably a better way to go about this than what she had in mind, but if there was she couldn’t think of it. Her brain was fried. It had taken her long enough to get here—ten days on the road, exactly, constantly looking over her shoulder. There were deep, dark impressions under her eyes and she was sure she looked as grimy as she felt. Now wasn’t the time to throw caution to the wind, she should be on the top of her game, but she was tired. It was hard to get a good night’s sleep when you jumped at every shadow.
The bag of peanut butter M&Ms in her hand crumpled as she scooped the last of the candy into her mouth. She grabbed an old, frayed green messenger bag from the passenger seat and slipped it over her shoulder as she got out of the car. “Wait, shit.” She leaned through the car window, head ducking inside as she balanced on her toes, reaching for the keys that she had conveniently left in the ignition. Great start, she applauded, mentally kicking herself. She was going to get herself killed. Everyone said it, Marcus had said it—but he was dead now, so she supposed that didn’t really matter anymore.
A bell above the door chimed as it swung open. Emily strode in, a low, appreciate whistle escaping her. Damn. She hadn’t seen a locally owned, incredibly sourced, gun shop like this in…well, ever. The closest she had gotten was to the chain stores like Bass & Pro. This place, though, this place was freakin’ firearm heaven. She could practically feel her fingers itching to latch on to the Remington 700 bolt-action rifle. Despite her better intentions, her feet carried her over to the showcase. She felt like a kid in a candy store. It would be a good rifle for hunting, she could probably shell out a few hundred dollars for one, and the black finish was sleek as hell.
But then reality kicked in. Practicality demanded that she walk away. She wasn’t hunting deer. She was hunting people, and the handgun shoved into her messenger bag could do the job just fine. She gave one last longing look to the rifle and turned to the employee.
“My friend Marcus Donnavon told me this was the best place to come to if you were looking to buy firearms,” she threw the name out casually, moving towards the pistols and revolvers as she talked, “but I didn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.” Lord help her. There was a pink semi-auto pistol and she wanted it. But the pink was just as inconspicuous as her red hair. There were some things that people didn’t forget, that made you stand out, become more of a target.
Emily had learned that the hard way.
You ever have that itch at the base of your spine that told you shit was about to go wrong? That’s how he felt at that moment, the delicious little chill that screamed for him to go for his gun. It was an instinct, he felt, that he’d developed when another predator walked into the room, another gun slinger that just screamed trouble to the brown haired boy who was sitting pretty behind the front desk. This wasn’t his store, but his uncle’s. Still, he was famous for bein’ there, wasn’t he? Sarcastic, driven, and with an eye for guns that most couldn’t match. Still, he was perkin’ up as he cut those eyes up to see the girl walkin’ in. He’d caught sight of that blue truck, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it, why should he?
Oh, he caught sight of her, alright, and she caught those eyes of his. Busty? Redheaded? Just his fuckin’ type, and he was already grinning as he saw her walk up on him, about to give her the line he gave everyone, but when she said that name, and that line? Oh boy, did the sigh leave him right then and there. “Yeah, he’s not wrong, but he’s also not alive.” Frowning? You bet your sweet ass he was. He’d liked Marcus. Him liking anyone was a fucking rarity as it was. Still though, he blinked when he saw where her eyes were going, glancing over his shoulder then back to her.
“You know we can uh, cerakote any gun you want or have, any color or design you want, right? That’s a thing that we do.”
OutXOfXBulletz
To my patient ass partners,
Thank you. Seriously. You guys rock.
“Open your mouth. Wider.”
@weaponized-sarcasm
“Make me.”
“It’s gonna hurt if I do, Darce.”
❝ There’s nothing more horrifying than a miracle. ❞
‘captain america: the winter soldier’ starter prompts
“You know somehow that doesn’t shock me in the least.” She replied.
“I don’t think many things shock you, Ais.” Grinnin’ like an idiot as he casually popped that magazine into his rifle, pulling back on the charging handle before snapping it forward.