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waffles-art-writing · 1 year

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JOKER - Task Force 141 x Reader

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First post - please ignore any mistakes as I write this on my phone at like midnight most of the time haha. Be Nice :’). Anyway, enjoy! Sorry if any of the slang or anything like that is wrong. I’ve never lived there (I’m in Australia)

GIF: thewriterg

Proofread: Half-assed proof-read sorry.

I got inspo for this from the song “Joker -Rory Webley”.

Summary: Joker (you) gets captured on a mission. Ghost and Soap search high and low for you as Gaz and Price gain as much information as they can about the man they suspect has taken you. Will you make it out and get back to your team?

Pairing: Task Force 141!Platonic x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.4K Roughly - kinda long sorry

Age Rating: 16+ Preferably, unless you can handle goreish stuff- otherwise anyone can read it

Codename: JOKER

Key: Y/N - Your Name, Y/N/N - Nickname. L/N - Last Name

Warning/Info: third person??, descriptions of injury, blood, weapons, normal COD stuff, mentions of Torture, Kidnapping, Childhood trauma, angst?? I think… FLUFF, Soft!Ghost. If theres anything I need to add please say so :)

EDIT: If this gets enough traction or if you guys want! I am more than happy to make a part two or turn it into a whole mini series :) Thanks for all the likes and reblogs <3 (Here’s the part Two)

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The rolling thunder in the distance rumbles, you can feel it through the ground. The air is thick with the feeling of rain, but not a single drop has touched the dry and dusty earth you are currently laying on. You’re watching the rest of the team work their way through the small village, your thermal scope making them glow like glow sticks at a rave. “Joker, how copy?” Price’s voice crackles to life in your ear, you press the button on the comms to reply. “Hear you loud an’ clear Cap” you reply, clicking the button to the pressed position to keep the comms open, you’re watching Ghost and Soap clean house in one of the larger ruins of a house.

“Do you ‘ave eyes on the target yet?” Price’s stern voice rumbles in your ear again. You adjust the scope to get a larger field of view, scanning all the windows in the dilapidated village. Your eyes narrow as you watch a figure poke their head around a wall not far from Ghost and Soap’s position. “Not yet Sir, but there's a shifty guy looking for Ghost and Soap” you comment “Ghost do a one eighty… some guy is looking for you from the building with a red door.” You pick up a low grunt in response from Ghost as Price acknowledges what you’ve said. You’re zoned in on watching any and all movement not yet spotting who you are looking for.

Sweat forms on your brow as you continue watching for any shifty people, the balaclava you wear has red paint smeared on it like a smile like the joker from Batman, the fabric is not helping with the heat. The faint sound of dirt shifting draws your attention from the scope, you push yourself to your knees while spinning around to face the source of the sound. Your glock raises steadily as you lift your arms in front of yourself, the pounding of your heart is deafening, blood pumping quickly, breathing quickens. You scan your surroundings, you’ve perched yourself just in front of a moderately sized group of boulders, shrouded in twiggy bushes.

The little amount of sun casts harsh shadows on the ground as you rock yourself up into a crouched position, your feet light on the ground as you stay close to the boulders. Your breathing falters as you see a shadow not matching up to a group of bushes and rocks in front of you. You whip around to the sound of more footsteps, your vision blurs, you feel your body go numb, black spots decorating your vision like snowfall. The faint sound of Ghost’s stern voice and Soap’s concern calls can be heard as your vision fades to nothing.

“Joker, do you have a visual?” Ghost asks as he looks over the wall he’s crouched behind, Soap just a few feet away. “Joker? Lass, can you hear us?” Soap barks out as he looks over his shoulder towards Ghost, his brows knitted together as he watches Ghost try reaching you again. “Price! Can you reach Joker?” Soap quickly questions through the comms, his mind running a thousand miles a minute as he tries to figure out what happened to you. “You two need to get the fuck out of there now, Joker’s been compromised.” Price barks through the radio, his voice commanding as ever as he himself looks over to Gaz who is desperately trying to figure out why you're not responding. “What?” Soap breathes out as he looks up towards the hill you were perched on, trying to see if you’re still there but to no avail. Ghost is quick as he spits out commands to Soap to follow him to the rendezvous spot you all agreed on if something went south.

“Sir, the locator she has is saying she’s still where she was before the comms went dark.” Gaz states as he types furiously across the keyboard, his eyes flicking between maps and coordinates. “The fuck is going on Gaz?” Price asks as he looks over the younger man’s shoulder. Price runs a hand down his face as he watches the white dot on the map blink, his heart skips a beat when he watches the light go out completely. “Fuck! No, no, no. Come on” Gaze mumbles as he tries to get the locator back online, his attempts falling short of the goal he wishes he reached. “Ghost, Soap, can you see Joker anywhere at all?” Price curses under his breath as he watches Ghost and Soap’s lights nearing the rendezvous spot. “Nothing… What the fuck is going on Gaz?!” Soap sneers down the line, Ghost staying quiet as he looks around, looking where you would’ve been coming from up on the ridge line.

“I don’t know, her locator is offline.”

“I thought you couldn’t turn ‘em off without smashin’ ‘em or disconnectin’ from our comms?” Soap growls out.

“You can turn them off if you know the correct button order but they are hard to get to without the proper tools”

“What do ya mean Gaz?” Ghost questions.

Gaz rubs his brow as he looks at the map again. “She either had to have the patience to disconnect it without breaking it, or someone broke it…” his words hang heavy over everyone’s head, everyone knows you’re not the patient kind, nor are you one to smash her own locator without telling them beforehand or without good reason.

“She’s been taken…” Soap’s voice cuts through the silence, everyone knows deep down that's what has happened yet they don’t want to believe it. “You two go search where she was, try to find anything you can on what happened to her. We need to get her back.” Price growls out, he marches out of the room where he was with Gaz, his footsteps echoing around the building.

Your heart is thumping, body aching, throat dry as the Sahara Desert. Your eyes hurt like they have been stabbed with nails. A small groan escapes you as you attempt to move, nothing happens. Your vision is blurry as you look down at yourself, noticing the rope around your wrists and ankles, securely tied to the chair you have the opportunity to sit in. “Wha- What the hell…” your voice is scratchy, hoarse, but clear. Your head snaps up, your eyes widening as you notice the balaclava you hardly ever took off is now missing, it's gone, your face on full display. “Welcome to the waking world Joker… or should we call you Y/N?” Your breath hitches as the voice sounds out from behind you.

You attempt to look at the man who spoke, your attempt failing as a hand comes to grip your hair holding your head forward. “Get your hands off me!” You scream, attempting to loosen yourself from the binds and get away from the bastard that's behind you. “Oh don’t be so harsh now” “Get your fuckin’ hands off of me you bastard!” “Now, now Y/N don’t be so… callous” his voice drips with a sickly sweet tone, your skin crawling as you watch him walk around to the front of you. You stare at him, brows furrowed, jaw clenched as you see it is the same man you were tasked with finding and killing.

“Cat got your tongue?” His eyes roam your body, the shirt you are wearing now sticking to you from sweat, your combat pants covered in dirt just like your shirt. Boots gone. “My eyes are up here you arsehole” you sneer as you watch his eyes trail back up to yours. They are dark, not dark like Ghost’s cold and calculating stare. They are dark like a man with sinister intentions, a predator who’s on the verge of snapping and turning into a hellbent rabid dog.

“Why are ya doing this? If you want information ye ain’t getting it outta me you sick bastard. You’re just a coward hiding behind a name.” Your voice darkens as you stare him down “You won’t even survive five seconds out there if it weren’t for yer’ guards or yer’ stupid little posse that kisses the earth ya walk on!” The man stares at you, his movements blur in the low light of the dark room. The cold blade of a knife traces along your cheek. “I wonder how you got these scars…” his voice trails off as he follows the pale scar that runs along the apple of your left cheek going towards your nose. The scar is from your early years in the armed forces, you were sparring with a fellow comrade which ended up with you face in the dirt and cutting your cheek on the end of the rough mat you were on.

“How about this one?” The tip of the knife pushes against the corner of your mouth, a small scar going to the side, almost like it’s extending your smile by a fraction. You’ve had it since you were young, you were using a stake knife, you were playing around with the knife and using it like a fork. Your parents were out and they left a steak for the babysitter to cook, yet the sitter was distracted by her phone. You accidentally moved the knife slicing the corner of your mouth open. Your parents ended up scolding you while you sat on a bed in the overnight section of the local doctors surgery.

“That’s none of ya fucking business” you sneer as you lean away from the blade. “Well I’ll now know where this one will come from, hold still… let’s match the joker smile that’s on your mask to your pretty little face shall we?” “No, no no no no no no!”

Boots splash in the puddles of mud, rain falling heavily from the clouds overhead, grumbles of curses can be heard throughout the group as they march through the drenched ground. Soap is quick to push the door to the safe house open, Gaz not far behind, followed by Price, Ghost a few strides out. Price immediately heads to the wall decorated in maps and sheets of information, Gaz opening the laptop on the closest surface. Soap looks over to Ghost. His shoulders rigid, eyes set in a hard stare, hand in tight hold around the strap of the rifle case you decorated with patches from all the places you’ve been.

The gun was gone, you were gone, but the case was still there sitting in the dirt.

Soap and Ghost looked around the area you were in, just as they were getting close, the clouds opened up the heavy rain fell, it drenched the earth quickly like a burst fire hydrant. Ghost was the one to spot the case hap-hazardly thrown into the bushes off to the side. Ghost knew you adored making at least something personalised, make it seem less… daunting…

Ghost places the case on the table, keeping a hand on it as Soap steps up next him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The lass is probably already on her way back to us L.T…” Soap quietly states, his voice low. “She’s strong… she’ll be back with us in no time”. Ghost looks to Soap out the corner of his eye, watching the Scotsman walk off towards Price. “She better…” His voice is low, a small hint of worry dancing in his tone as he runs a gloved hand over the patches on the case.

The taste of iron rests on your tongue. Blood.

Throbbing, stinging pain burns across your face. Pain.

The burning feeling of aching muscles flows through your legs, arms, back… Just everywhere.

All you see is red, the colour of blood, the smell of death. The corpses of men littler the corridor you stand in, the men that once beat you to a bloody pulp, talked down upon you like you’re some barnyard rat.

Sound of blood rushing fills your head. Your feet drag across the ground as you limp over the dead men towards the door, the door that leads to the outside world, to your escape, to your freedom… to your team.

Rain, water, cool air, wet ground. You let the rain run down your face, your hair a tousled mess as it clings to your forehead. From sweat? From rain or from blood? You don’t know and you don’t care as you stumble through the slippery mud. Your mind is flooded with the desire to get somewhere warm and dry, to be surrounded by your team, your friends, your found family.

The dark silhouette of the safe house can be seen amongst the other small village buildings, the safe house isn’t far from where the mission was taking place, it was for convenience. It was just over half an hour by car, but by foot it was just over seven hours of nonstop walking. Your feet are red with blisters from walking across the earth. You were lucky enough to find a quad bike off to the side of the run down building you were held in, but it quickly ran out of gas within the first 10 minutes of riding it. You were close to giving up right there and then, you were barely able to stay upright, your grip on the handlebars was almost non-existent. You dumped the dead bike in a ditch, not giving a shit about how out of place it looked.

Four hours of nonstop walking, rain, mud, wind and the occasional moments of running to avoid being spotted by someone driving past.

Tears rim your eyes as you approach the front door of the safe house, inputting the code in the keypad, your breathing ragged as you nudge the door, the creaking of hinges sounding out, muttering can be heard from behind the door leading into the main common room. Using your good shoulder, the doors open quickly and the voices go silent as they turn to the sound of the doors opening. Your eyes are half lidded, your right hand clutching your left bicep. “I-.. I’m sorry…” your voice comes out mumbled, your legs quiver as you feel yourself tipping forwards.

Ghost turns to the doors, his back once to them, his eyes widened as he sees your tired, bloodied and dirty face. “I-.. I’m sorry…” his feet moving before he even realises he’s moving, Soap right behind him. “I’ve got you kid, I’ve got you…” he mumbles as his arms wrap around your waist, his grip firm but careful to not hurt you any further. “Lass…” Soap’s voice is soft as he approaches you and Ghost. Your face is pushed up against Ghost’s chest, blood still dripping down your face. Your hands clutch to Ghost’s tactical vest, the rough surface rubbing against the deep gashes that drag heavily across your cheeks. “J-Johnny…” you whimper out as your hazy eyes focus on the blue eyed Scotsman next to you. “I’m here Lass, don’t worry.”

Only you and Ghost have the pleasure of calling the ruthless Sergeant Soap MacTavish ‘Johnny’.

Everything around you is muffled, nothing is coherent enough for your fizzled mind to make out. You feel your body get scooped out from under you, your head leans into the junction of Ghost’s neck and shoulder. His broad frame keeps you stable and warm, Soap is rushing ahead to the kitchen moving everything out of the way on the small island bench. “Shit, kid, what did they do to you…” Price curses, his question comes out more like a statement. “I… I didn’t tell... I didn’t s-say… anything” your mumbled words slur as you lean into Ghost more. “Don’t close your eyes L/N. Keep those pretty eyes open.”

‘Did he call my eyes pretty?’

You whimper when Ghost places you on the kitchen island, grabbing the med kit from Gaz who was running in from getting it from the bathroom. Price is standing to your right, Gaz next to him. Ghost to your left, while Soap wraps a tourniquet around your left thigh.

“We gotta cut your pants lass, I know you like these ones” Soap chuckles lightly as opens the pant leg up to your thigh. He’s quick to clean the bullet wound that marks your flesh. Ghost has gone quiet, his whole body rigid from head to toe, his hands working quickly to rip open your shirt, not hesitating to run his hands gently down your ribs. “Gaz, get a bowl of warm water” Soap barks out as he realises what state your feet are in, his touch is firm but careful.

Your body feels numb, the men around you are fuzzy, your eyes roam Price’s face as he holds your shoulders down when Soap says he’s gonna have to dig the bullet out. You don’t move, other than a pained and strained cry leaves you as you feel Soap pulling the bullet out. It wasn’t too deep. Thank god.

“Joker, look at me girl. Keep your eyes on me, that's it sweetheart.” Price’s voice is stern, commanding, as he desperately tries to keep you awake. “I’m sorry C- Cap…” Price shakes with his head lightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I know, kid, I know. You just need to keep talking, okay? Can you do that?” You nod your head slightly, cringing when Ghost touches a bruised rib while applying anti-inflammatory cream to it, hoping to ease the pain. “Ow- you arse…” you mumble as you glance at Ghost, who’s eyes squint slightly like he’s smirking. “M’sorry, keep your eyes on Price for me.” He says gently as he takes a damp cloth to your cheek. You flinch away harshly, tears falling down your face even quicker now. The adrenaline is wearing off quickly, the pain from everything is bubbling to the surface.

“No. No no no” you whimper out as you try to hide your face away from Ghost’s touch. Price and Ghost swap positions naturally. You glance up at Ghost whose face is now upside down when he looks at you, your eyes blurry with tears. “Kid… Love, you gotta look at me. I need to clean your face to see where you’re bleeding from.” His voice is muffled by the Balaclava, and hard skull mask adorning the dark fabric.

“He- He said let’s m-match the mask… make my f-face match my mask… he-” your pained voice states, tears streaming down your face, Price’s grip on your hand and shoulder tightens. Gaz’s hand’s still from cleaning the cuts and scrapes around your ankles and feet. Soap halts his bandaging of your thigh, they all stare at you with stormy eyes, filled with rage. Ghost’s hands cup your jaw gently, his fingers twitching with adrenaline from the rage, his eyes darken as he stares into your teary and puffy eyes. “I’m gonna fucking kill him…” he sneers lowly, your voice sounds like a small kitten when you speak.

“You can’t….” “Why can’t he kill ‘em Lass?” Soap questions as he secures the bandage around your thigh. “He’s… he’s already dead… I killed him.” Your voice breaks when a sob racks through your body. “He’s dead, in a puddle of his own blood… I killed him…” you repeat, “… he’s unrecognisable now…” you lift your hand to place it on Ghost’s forearm. Your hands shake as you do so, Ghost snaps out of whatever trance of rage and concern he was in. He nods his head, Price has gone to call for a medic evac, Gaz and Soap continue cleaning any other wounds you have.

You lean into Ghost’s touch, allowing him to clean one side of your face at a time. The gashes are reasonably deep, not deep enough feel from the inside of your cheeks thankfully. “I can’t stitch these L/N… the doctor will have to do that. All I can do is cover them with gauze and tape…” he sounds sorry, only slightly, his eyes still burning with anger but there is some softness of concern in them. “Just… just do what you can Ghost…” the man nods as he gently sits you up, allowing him to see if the wounds will bleed when you are up right.

You sit there, eyes heavy and dull. The dried tear stains are still on your cheeks as Ghost gently applies antiseptic cream and gauze, followed by medical tape. You wince at his touch. You feel like you just got your wisdom teeth removed, your head cloudy, your face aching, eyes sore.

“Ghost the heli will be here in five minutes, is she ready to move?” Price barks out as he walks over. Gaz and Soap throwing anything dirty and used away in the trash. Ghost looks from Price to you, his eyes scanning your body from head to toe. Noticing the skin around your ribs already turning a dark blue and purple. That’s gonna hurt. Your hands shake as you push yourself to stand on the ground, as soon as your feet touch the ground your knees give way.

Ghost is clutching you to his chest, you whimper as you clutch to him like your life depends on it. “Doesn’t look like it, Sir.” Ghost states as he keeps his arms under your arms, to keep you upright. “Well, gotta carry her then.” Ghost just nods as he leans back, making you look up at him. “Johnny’s gonna carry you okay?” Ghost states as he sees Soap approach you two, one of his shirts in hand and a blanket. “… O-... Okay…” You look over at Soap and let one of your hands reach out to him, doing a grabby-hand motion.

The Scotsman chuckles as he moves over, slipping the spare shirt around your head, slipping your arms through it gently. Ghost wraps the blanket around your shoulders, making sure you’re snug once you’re in Soap’s arms. “Comfy there Lass?” His low chuckle makes you smile as you lean into him more, letting your eyes close. “Yeah… just tired…” you mumble as you nuzzle into his neck, his cologne comforting you in a way. “Don’t sleep just yet, we gotta get you outta here.” He states as he walks to the door, following Gaz and Price. Ghost behind you with your belongings and Soaps rifle and his own. “Keep talkin’ to us, love.” Ghost states as he makes eye contact with you, you nod your head gently. The sound of the chopper overhead is loud, the wind from the blades and the rain makes you bring the blanket up more, making you curl in on yourself.

“Can they go any fuckin’ slower?” Soap laughs at your complaint about waiting for the chopper to land. “I don’t think so or they would stall Lass.” You chuckle with Soap as he tightens his grip on you as you approach the chopper, a medic is there waiting, you groan as you realise that Soap has to put you down. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to show you don't want to be out down. “No.” The medic looked at you confused, she was ready to help you with your injuries. “Lass we gotta put-” “No. No. No.” You cower further into Soap’s chest as you see the medic reach for you. “Fuck off!” You growl, Soap’s arms wrap around you further as he gets comfortable in the chopper. Ghost sits next to him, Price is up by the pilot, Gaz on the other side of Soap.

The ride back to the main base of operations is quick, there's mostly silence amongst everyone, other than the medic who keeps asking questions about your injuries. Soap mainly answers, Ghost pitching in when needed. The whole time you kept your face hidden in Soap’s shoulder or neck, keeping the blanket up by your face.

You wouldn't let go of Soap until you were in the medical wing, laying on a bed. But even then you wanted at least one of the boys to be in the room. The nurses and head medic came in and out the entire time, asking questions upon questions, preparing you for further treatment of your condition. You eventually fell asleep after getting some pain medication and proper medical attention to all the injuries.

But when it came to stitching up the gashes that made you look like the real-life Joker from Batman, you requested Ghost or Soap to be there. They both ended up being in the room, Ghost and Soap were standing to your left, your face turned towards them, having the left side already dealt with and covered. The head medic did whatever he could to help lessen the scarring. Ghost was like a brick wall, unmoving, cold eyes as he watched the medic. Soap was letting you play with his hands, and fingers, which allowed him to play with yours in return.

Blinding lights.

The smell of cleaning products.

Beeping. Bloody Beeping.

Your eyes crack open, your nose scrunching as the blinding lights flood your vision. Your head feels heavy, and your body aches. You hear the sound of the heart monitor and another softer sound. You look around the small room, three figures can be found in the room. Soap and Gaz leaning their heads on the bed. Your right hand is held in Soap’s as he snores softly, Gaz leaning on his arms that are crossed on the bed, out cold. Ghost in the armchair in the dark corner of the room, his chin to his chest, safe to say he’s probably asleep. The door to the room opens softly, you see Price closing the door with his foot.

He smiles when he sees you awake, he approaches and places two paper cups on the table next to you. His hand falls to your shoulder, a light squeeze in greeting. You smile up at him, your free hand wrapping around his. “Got you some juice, they said not hot liquid for a week…” he mumbles softly as he hands you the paper cup. “Thanks, Cap.” You softly say, barely above a whisper, your voice scratchy from just waking up. “Those two-“ Price points to Soap and Ghost “-have been here the whole time, Gaz got up to get food for them but otherwise he's been here most of the time.” “And you?” “I came just after you passed out, Laswell sends her regards as well.” You nod in acknowledgment, your eyes finding sudden interest in the liquid in your cup.

“You did good kid, I’m proud of you.” You look up to Price who is now sipping his coffee, tears form in your eyes as you nod your head. “Drink your juice kid, get some sleep too.” He states as he ruffles your hair.

You are safe, protected, inside, warm and dry. Surrounded by your team, your friends, your found family.

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grogusmum · 1 year

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Let It SQUALL ❄️

This is part if the @pedrostories Secret Santa gift exchange 2022.

For: @something-tofightfor

With love: Hazel

Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

W/C:1400

RATED: T

You go to a tree farm to get your Christmas Tree and get a little help from Frankie.

It's your first Christmas alone, but you are determined to enjoy personal traditions built over a decade. This includes cutting your own tree...

So here you are, pulling into the tree farm's hardpan parking lot, hoping your hatchback isn't too small to bring one home. You remind yourself that it will be fine so long as you get a small tree as you get out of the car and grab your bow saw.

It really is a perfect day for it, snow on the ground from last night and some flurries swirling… you are bundled up in your favorite sweater with a scarf, gloves and good boots as you make your way to the field.

Holiday music floats over the parking lot and in the warming house, the smell of wood smoke and hot chocolate fill you with nostalgia.

A sweet faced dog with large pointy ears lopes by, you smile and your eyes can't help following. It's a dog, okay? The dog stops, tail wagging at a guy, you assume is his owner. He's comfortably handsome with soft brown eyes, a mustache and patchy scruff on his chin and cheeks. Layered a thermal shirt, button down flannel, and quilted barn coat, his head topped with a trucker cap with the tree farm logo on it. You note his coat has a patch with Frankie embroidered on it.

He gives you a crooked smile that displays a singular dimple. You give a small smile back and then continue your trek to the grove of trees, your face heats a little at being caught staring.

The music fades being replaced by the crunch of your foot falls and the aroma of pine and snow overtakes the smells from the farm yard.

You meander through the trees unhurried, passing the noble firs, gorgeous but expensive, best not to fall in love with one. Next the Douglases, then the Frasers… at the Balsams you turn into the rows, surrounding yourself in their scent. You take a moment to steep in it.

“I like the balsams too, humble, beautiful and the amazing smell lasts,” says a soft voice behind you.

“I love them,” you say, you had heard a second set of boots in the snow, turning to see that the friendly voice is coming from Frankie, the tree farm guy. “I just wish they held their needles a bit better.”

“Yeah, there’s always a catch,” he chuckles.

“There really always is isn't there," you smile.

“So, I followed you to see if I could help. Usually we get people out here in pairs or families…” Frankie trails off, not wanted to overstep. His hand comes up to the back of his neck, it is sweetly shy.

“Oh,” you say, have this broad, soft eyed tree farmer help? Pssh “That would be great!”

His smile lights up and you know you are in trouble!

As you and Frankie walk the lines of trees, you tell him you usually get a tall tree, your place, while not very big, has high ceilings, but now you only have a small hatchback to bring it home, so you need to stick with a 5 footer.

“Deciding which ornaments to leave in the boxes, that will be hard” you say with a sigh.

You walk in companionable silence for a few beats.

“Are you far?”

“No actually, I’m above the used bookstore right off Main,” you say absently as you walk around a small tree, scrutinizing it.

"I can," Frankie clears his throat, "I could bring- we offer delivery."

It takes a moment for you.

"Really?" You beam, then your face falls, "mmm, thank you butI really can't afford a bigger tree and delivery- "

"Delivery, under 5 miles, is free," Frankie confirms with more confidence. Though you get the feeling he just did that math. It's your turn to give a lopsided smile, as you thank him and move away from the small tree and head for the more mature ones.

You choose a narrow eight foot tree, Frankie makes quick work of falling it for you and drags it behind him as you make small talk. The temperature dropping as the day progresses and you begin to shiver.

"Cold?"

"Yeah, I didn't think it was supposed to drop like this, also thought I was going to be keeping myself warm with taking the tree down myself." Then you quickly add with a grin, "not I'm complaining. Thank you again."

"Well let's get you a hot drink and warm you up!"

At the warming house, you loosen your scarf and open up you coat. Frankie is aglow, ruddy cheeks from the chill and exertion as he hangs his coat up and adds a log to the woodstove. He smiles at a couple of the crew taking a break from the cold as he picks up two mugs-

"We got coffee, tea, hot chocolate and hot cider"

"Oh, um… I'll take the cider!"

Frankie, dimple showing, brings the two piping hot mugs over. You take the mug with both hands grazing his, murmuring your thanks.

After a sip-

"I love this space, and the woodcut ornaments… so, is this a family business?"

"Sorta, found family I guess." He says, "my buddies and I bought it, sort of defunked at the time…"

You continue to look everywhere but him-

"Nice"

Frankie on the other hand can't take his eyes off of you, "yeah."

Finally, you look over your steaming mug at him, "yeah."

You were kicking yourself internally for being so awkward. Why? Why must you be this way?

Then a bunch of phone notifications chime at once, you look at yours as several others do the same, including Frankie.

"Well, we'd better get you and your tree home, there's warning for squalls." Frankie says as everyone starts moving to finish up.

You nod and take another sip of the cider and set it down on the tray table set out for that purpose.

"I'm, um, a little nervous about my car getting it down the hill its not great in the snow…"

"Well, you're not far, how about I drive you in the pickup and you can get your car tomorrow, it's supposed to be clear tomorrow, no problem," Frankie guides you out a hand gently on your lower back. The tree is already in his truck and he takes just a moment to say something to a shorter man with black curls, who looks at you and then back to Frankie. He smiles and Frankie gives him a good natured shove.

With a whistle, his dog hops in the cab as the two of you clamber in.

"Is it okay if my dog joins?"

"Of course," you enthuse, giving the sweetie a scratch behind those big ears.

As with squalls, the snow is suddenly heavy and there are moments when it is white out conditions. You were so glad to not be in your little hatchback, you really needed to get a better car for the winter.

Frankie takes his time and soon enough you are in front of your bookstore, The Dancing Goat.

"Why dancing goat?" He asks looking up at the sign.

"That is an excellent question," you say with a smirk as you climb out of the truck.

You hear him chuckle, then shiver. With the wind the snow is coming down, and sideways, and up.

After the pair of you bring the tree up the stairs to the apartment above, and put the tree in the stand, you walk him back out to the sidewalk, finding the snow is worse.

"Maybe you should come back up, hopefully the squalls will settle in a little bit."

"Yeah, I can bring Raffi in?" Frankie asks, hand on the car door.

"Of course."

As you wait for the kettle, you start putting up the tree lights, Frankie falling very naturally in step with you, helping wind them around the tree. His dog Raffi finds your couch a perfect place to watch you both work, and gets cozy.

The kettle sings just as you finish the lights, so you plug it in with a voilà and you turn down the other lights and rush to get the tea brewing.

The windows with snow swirling outside them perfectly frame your merrily twinkling evergreen. You can't help but sigh and your eyes get bright with holidays past.

As a distraction, you pull out your phone, check the weather once more and then swipe over to your music app, selecting Skating by Vince Girardi and the quiet nostalgia of the Charlie Brown soundtrack.

"I think it might be a while."

"That's alright by me," Frankie says as he plunks down next to his already sleeping dog, he looks up an eyebrow raising and smile widening as he pats the cushion next to him-

"I'm still waiting to hear about the Dancing Goat."

Part 2

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚 AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS

If you enjoyed this, you can find more Frankie and my writng in general on my masterlist and if you would like to be tagged in future work, please go to my taglist form.

#secret santa #frankie morales x you #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift22 #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales christmas fic #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x gn!reader

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mus1g4 · 6 months

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How could does it usually get in Iowa in late march? Asking since I’m thinking of booking the role play for these date and wanted to know what inmate clothes I’d be wearing

Do you think by that time of the year the weather will allow for me to be arrested in bib overalls with a long shirt underneath?

Thanks again for all the amazing contents and insights :)

March is a transitional weather month in Iowa. I have seen it below 0 degrees Fahrenheit and I have seen it 70 degrees Farenheit!! You cannot plan for the weather in March. On average, you should expect highs in the 40s to 50s degrees Farenheit and lows near freezing.

We obviously heat the cell block and also provide extra blankets at night if needed.

We issue orange watch caps orange hoodies and blanket lined chore coats when you do yard time. We also have jail issued thermal underwear for our inmates.

In terms of wearing overalls and a long sleeved chambray shirt; Iowa farmers have been wearing that outfit for more than 100 fucking years; summer and winter! You will be fine convict!

Question about Cold Weather Jail Issued Clothing during Role Play

Jail yard coats in orange and civilian denim overalls

#inmate #prison #jail #convict #prisoner #male #Yard coat #Denim

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mckitterick · 9 months

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Manatee Bay, Florida, reports ocean temperature of 101.1°F (38°C), a global record

Ocean temperatures are also breaking records in the North Atlantic and Mediterranean this week.

The ocean has warmed unabated since 1970, having absorbed more than 90% of excess heat from the climate system, and is now seven degrees hotter than normal.

Why is this bad?

Rising global temperatures decrease oxygen solubility in water, increase the rate of oxygen consumption via respiration, and reduce the introduction of oxygen from the atmosphere and surface waters into the ocean interior by increasing stratification and weakening ocean overturning circulation.

Low-oxygen zones increase production of N2O (a potent greenhouse gas), reduce biodiversity, alter food webs, and negatively affect food security and livelihoods. Both acidification and rising temperature are linked with deoxygenation and combine with low-oxygen conditions to affect biogeochemical, physiological, and ecological processes.

Global warming is the primary cause of ongoing deoxygenation. Models project further oxygen declines during the 21st century, even with ambitious emission reductions.

But wait, there's more.

How could ocean warming be catastrophic?

Clathrates are deposits of methane trapped within ice on the bottom of the ocean, usually off the continental shelf where decaying biological material has flowed from the land into the seas for millennia.

Methane is a potent greenhouse gas, possessing global-warming potential 72× greater than carbon dioxide.

Sudden release of large amounts of natural gas from long-frozen methane clathrate deposits likely were responsible for Earth's sudden runaway warming 630 million years ago, the Permian-Triassic extinction event, and the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum.

Our greatest hope right now is that most clathrates lie deep under the ocean where temperatures are less likely to rise rapidly enough to melt their ice caps.

However, some methane clathrate deposits are much shallower, making them far more vulnerable to warming. A deposit off Canada in the Beaufort Sea and another in the East Siberian Arctic Shelf are as shallow as 45 meters, so even slight ocean warming could quickly release gas from the currently frozen methane.

Not less than 1,400 gigatons of methane currently lurk under the Arctic submarine permafrost, with up to 50 gigatons of methane hydrate highly likely to be abruptly released at any time.

A release on this scale would increase the methane content of the planet's atmosphere by a factor of twelve, equivalent in greenhouse effect to doubling the level of CO2.

Recognizing this threat led to the "Clathrate Gun" hypothesis. A 2012 study concluded that melting these Arctic methane clathrates would mean a 1000-fold free methane increase in a single pulse, increasing atmospheric temperatures by more than 6°C in 80 years.

(map of methane clathrate deposits worldwide)

The worst part of all this horror is that such a sudden warming is also likely to set off other methane clathrate deposits across the world, sending Earth into an ever-increasing temperature spiral akin to those ancient extinction events.

So, yeah, ocean temperatures like this are not just red flags, but radioactively glowing warning signs of impending worldwide disaster.

#clathrates #greenhouse gasses #climate change #global warming #clathrate gun

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sablegear0 · 8 months

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Finally cracked into Metroid Prime Remastered last night. So far it’s been a mix of me whipping through the gameplay because I’m very familiar with enemy behaviours and gimmicks, and me standing around admiring the scenery and geeking out about the level of detail introduced. Played all the way up to the second visit to the Ruins after getting Spider Ball, utterly in my glory, before getting tired and having to stop.

There are some details that I miss, which I'm sure everyone has heard by now (beam lighting is a sore loss with the thermal visor changed to a blurry mess, the doors don’t look quite right, no reflection in the Ruins mirrors did make me a little sad), but some of the work put into visually sprucing up the game had me giggling with delight if not gobsmacked with awe.

Some of the things that stuck out to me were:

Parasite Queen got a makeover; she’s much more plated and creepy now.

Flaahgra got some texture upgrades; its flower is now distinctly fleshy and you can spot a new idle animation through the door rather than the bloom being a static model.

They actually animated Samus doing a proper roll in the Flaahgra intro cutscene, where it had been a brief duck into morphball mode previously. Both are good but the effort pleases me.

Stone and architecture textures look great, more distinct markings on a lot of stuff in the ruins, including a few new decorative textures. (Notably the base of the halfpipe in the Ruins plaza; it looks like they’ve taken some cues from the SkyTown aesthetic for their fill-in decorative textures which is a very nice nod)

Columnar basalt in Magmoor! Which may have appeared in some capacity in the original but it is lovingly sculpted and appears in a handful of rooms, flowing naturally out of the smoother lava-rock formations. Neat stuff.

Dynamic heat-shimmer in Magmoor. For an example, the room just before the first elevator to Phendrana abuts a room with magma in it; closer to the magma there is heat-shimmer, but further away there is not. Again, this may have appeared in the original and I just never noticed, but the effect is much more pronounced here and it looks good

Rain effects remain gorgeous on the visor. The artifact temple’s window has an animated ‘rain on glass’ texture that had me staring at it for a while.

Moving clouds! Notably in Phendrana but other areas may have them as well, the skyboxes have an extra layer so they’re not just static painted images but have some cloud movement to them that looks decently realistic.

The snow-on-stone texture looks great. I don't know how to describe it but it has a realistically wind-scraped look, which adds a lot of life. GC Phendrana had very neat snow-caps on everything, which to be fair has aged well, but the gradient shown by the new textures feels very real.

The Switch appears in the options menu. Maybe this is a silly thing to marvel at but there’s a very detailed model of a Nintendo Switch where once was a GameCube (Or whatever was in he Trilogy version, I don’t actually know.)

Will report more as I go through. Needless to say I am deeply enjoying myself.

#sable talks about games #metroid #metroid prime #metroid prime remastered #updated chozo lore still sucks fite me

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magpie-69 · 1 year

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🥶🥶🥶

When I get home from work in the winter this is what I have to wear to keep warm as I'm terrified to put my heater on due to the cost:

2 pairs of fleecy trousers, pulled over my work trousers (it's too cold to take them off) with 2 pairs of thin socks which my work trousers are tucked into and 1 pair of fleecy socks which my fleecy trousers are tucked into.

Fleecy slipper boots.

A fleecy neck tube.

A baseball cap.

1 vest.

1 long sleeved top

1 fleece jumper.

1 thin, heated body warmer, zipped up.

1 fleece zip up cardigan with a hood (zipped up & hood pulled over head).

1 thick body warmer, zipped up.

Fingerless gloves.

And when I'm sat on the settee my legs are covered by a fleece blanket and my feet sit on 2 thin cushions with a silver thermal sheet under those for extra foot warmth.

I'm just about warm enough.

Thanking the gods for fleecy clothing 🙏

Wondering what damage is being done to my home as it suffers prolonged cold/damp and what damage is being done to me as I constantly breath in cold/damp air 😟

Hating the politicians & the rich for putting me in this disgusting position 😡🤬😭

And very much feeling for Ukraine and her people, many of whom have no heating or fresh water available 🙏🇺🇦🙏

9/12/22

12/9/22

#i work full time FFS! 🥶😭🥶😡🤬

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logorrhea5mip · 11 months

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A quasi star is the coolest thing to have once(maybe) existed

Inspired by @greetings-inferiors posting about regular stars and how immense their power is.

So, a standard star exists as a balance of its immense gravity trying to collapse it and the equally large pressure of the nuclear heat trying to blow it apart. But if a star gets too large while forming, it's solar wind blows all the gas around it away and it gets no bigger. (the mass cap is around 300 the mass of the Sun)

If we want to make a larger star, we need weird conditions. First, we go to the beta release of the universe, where great clouds of unchanged, primordial gas under the influence of dark matter combined to form stars. As the universe was denser and hotter, the stars couldn't push away the gas even after forming and they grew, to milions of Msolar.

When a certain mass is reached, the core stops being able to keep the immense mass from colapsing inwardas, and the star goes supernova. Except. The unimaginable size of the star can tank the supernova, the power of entire galaxies unable to kill it.

The newly formed black hole is force fed by the star's gravity, eating many times what it nomaly would, and in the process releasing a lot of power. How can a black hole make light? By stuff falling into it.

Basic physics says that matter falling converts potencial to kinetic, and then via friction to thermal enegry. And if you wanna fall down low and hard, a black hole is perfect for that.

The star is in balance once more, and it is BIG. Alpha Centauri A, the closest visible star, is 250 000 times narrower from Earth than the Moon. If we replaced it by the Quasi star, it would be 1/2 as big as the Moon and turn the night to day.(and cook us alive)

And it's power comes from its core slowly consuming itself.

If that isn't cool i dont know what is.

#not a reblog #ramblings #stars #astronomy #science #physics #black hole #the universe is too big sometimes

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gay-robot · 6 months

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so for those who followed me for that shitpost about the mechs in our lancer campaign and somehow havent unfollowed after my joyless commie antics i have some good news for you regarding our blackbeard pilot:

she's come up with a combo that i can only in good conscience call the captain ahab special for a) using a war pike with blackbeards grapple cables to proc duelist and titanomachy mesh from 5 spaces away and b) its utter insanity and self-destructiveness since she plans to pair it with a combat drill, thermal charge, and nuke cav 2, with a grand total of 6 heat cap to work with

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etes-secrecy-post · 5 months

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Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

#Onthisday: Nov 30th, 2018

Title: Cuteness Member - Ribty

So here's Libty's twin sibling and right hand squirrel, Ribty 🐿️! With his "Cuteness Mecha Armor" the armored "Gaz-R" / "Gazu-R" 🤖 - a righty custom close combat from the original Galbaldy-β, and much like the identical Gaz-L Libty. So if Gaz-L Libty was the "Gazelle", then Gaz-R Ribty should called "Gazzar" - a perfect nick name for a perfect fit armor suit! 😉

Gaz-R Ribty Came from the real: AMX-117R Gaz-R [CLICK ME!]

Armament(s):

Hyper Beam Saber • Two hyper beam sabers are stored on the Gaz-R's backpack. Their hilts are larger than most other beam sabers' during the First Neo Zeon War, and are capable of emitting a longer and more powerful beam blade that can easily cut through several mobile suits in a single swing. They can also be used as beam cannons when stored, capable of destroying most armored opponent(s) in one shot, or damage a battleship. Additionally, the two hyper beam sabers can be connected at their hilts to form a twin bladed weapon, the 'Beam Naginata', which is also known as 'Twin Lancer'.

Beam Saber • The beam saber is a small cylindrical device held in the mobile suit's hands when deployed and is powered by a rechargeable energy capacitor. It emits high-energy Minovsky particles to form a blade-shaped I-field (via manipulation of electromagnetic fields), and then fills this I-field shell with superheated Minovsky particle plasma to produce an effective cutting blade. The Gazu-R has two beam sabers stored in the enlarged forearm armor on the left arm.

Heat Lance • As its name implies, the heat lance uses thermal energy to heat up a metal blade to super-high temperatures, similar to the heat weapons used by the Principality of Zeon. The high heat allows the lance to begin melting the enemies armor on contact, which when combined with the force applied to the attack, can inflict significant damage.

Beam Rifle • The main long-range armament of the Gaz-R. The particle beam fired from a beam rifle can penetrate almost any armor that has not been treated with specific counter-measures. While not as powerful as the Beam Cannon, Gaz-R's Beam Rifle has a greater firing rate. Like most beam weapons of the period, it is powered by a rechargeable energy cap.

Ribty (HTF OC) - owned by D4RTHSP4RT4N (dA) [CLICK ME!] Armor (Mobile Suit Gundam ZZ) - Gundam Series © Bandai Namco Filmworks, Inc. (SUNRISE), Sotsu

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hairloveindia · 5 months

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Hair Love India's heat cap: amplify treatments. Shower caps: shield styles. Perfect duo for pampering and preserving your gorgeous locks!

#thermal heat caps #shower cap #curly hair products in india #online hair care products

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slippinmickeys · 2 years

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The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (14/?)

Mars is a dynamic planet. Eons ago, at the time when life started to emerge on Earth, Mars was warm and wet, covered in oceans and rivers that helped carve the great Valles Marineris canyon, and spouted tumultuous erupting volcanoes so monstrous that even today the largest of these sits twice as tall as Mount Everest. And while the surface of Mars is no longer wet – the temperatures and atmospheric pressures too low for the liquid to subsist stably – water still exists — trapped beneath polar ice caps of frozen carbon dioxide and below the surface of the planet like miniature versions of the water tables of Earth.

So too, like Earth, are the seasons of Mars: spring, summer, fall, winter. Tilted on its axis, the temperatures of the red planet fluctuate as parts of it face the sun, its eccentric orbit causing the seasons to differ vastly in length – spring lasts seven months. Winter, only four. The planet lacks the thermal blanket of a thick atmosphere – it can’t retain any heat. A summer day might find the surface temperature at a comfortable 70 degrees fahrenheit, while the same night will drop to more than a hundred degrees below zero. Winter can find temperatures of -200F.

Still, Mars is the most Earthlike of any other planet in our solar system, with days (called ‘sols’ to differentiate them from our own) that last 24 hours and 37 minutes. And while one Martian year lasts 669 sols, give or take a few hours, it is a planet of rock humans can stand on and navigate, it has mountains and plains and structures like our own.

But while Earth nurtured and created life, Mars will take it from you. Its atmosphere is comprised of 95% carbon dioxide with very little oxygen and water vapor – there’s nothing at all to breathe. The planet is also covered with ubiquitous and irritating dust, intense UV radiation, surface chemicals and oxidants. The dirt itself can’t even be called ‘soil’ because soil is a living, organic thing – it is instead called regolith, containing high concentrations of perchlorate compounds containing chlorine at levels which are considered toxic to both humans and terrestrial plants. And if all of those things – the cold, the radiation, its very makeup didn’t kill you, the low atmospheric pressure would. Without protection, exposed to the red planet, a human’s skin and other organs would rupture, outgas, and produce a quick, painful death within minutes.

Mars is a dynamic planet. And any humans that wish to live there must be equally spirited. Anything less could and would spell your end.

Scully navigated the corridors of the HAB carrying a small box of all the personal possessions she would have for the next five years. The other astronauts – who had not been last minute additions to the crew – had been afforded 100 pounds each of capacity on a past unmanned mission, each of them sending along as many belongings as could fit on the ship within their allotted weight limit, things that could make the years on an alien world a little less lonesome. Scully’s effects came in at a whopping twenty four pounds, and were comprised mainly of family photos and school-made chotchkes given to her by her many nieces and nephews. She’d had only thirty minutes to run through her condo and grab what she could, after she’d been informed she was headed to Mars, before flying back to the Cape to resume training.

The interior walls of the HAB were only about seven feet high and didn’t meet up with the ceiling, which was about forty feet overhead – a domed and flexible plastic composite that had been pushed up by the breathable air and Earthlike pressure that had been pumped into the space. From outside, the HAB resembled a giant Jiffy-Pop popper. From inside, it felt like a maze.

The HAB had been built by robots sent to Mars years before (two of the three still operational, though Powers had assured Ehrlich he could fix anything on wheels), so that when humans finally arrived all they had to do – theoretically – was walk through an airlock and take off their suit. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as all of that, and the commander had insisted that all systems and structures within and without the HAB had been checked and rechecked before anyone so much as stepped inside the airlock. And when the time came to remove their helmets and test the mettle of their new home, she insisted on being the first one to do it. Finding the HAB in perfect working order, the astronauts – some happily, some nervously – removed their hardsuits and set off to explore their new home.

Scully passed the doors of the individual quarters assigned to other astronauts – the cubicles themselves were small but spacious compared to the quarters aboard the Laruna and were among the few rooms in the HAB that were enclosed with their own ceilings. On the door of each cubicle was a nameplate announcing who lived inside, put in place by the robots who built it.

The HAB was an odd place. The floor was a rubbery, flexible material not unlike that of a gym, and it had a sharp, chemical redolence that underlied everything. As she walked, it had a sound, too – one that overlaid the hum of the life support systems and computers and various other systems that kept the place running – a low, eerie murmur that stuck out after months in the quiet of space. As Scully turned a corner, she realized it was the sound of the wind blowing over the top of the HAB, and it pulsed and blew with an energy that made it seem as though it had intent. Malice. It would take some getting used to.

As she rounded the corner that housed the hallway in which her cubicle was located, she was surprised to see a person standing at her door, doing something to it. He started in surprise when he heard her footsteps. Mulder.

“Ah,” he said, as she approached. “My goal was to be finished before you got here.”

In his hands was the nameplate which had been affixed to her door. BRINER, it read. The man whom she had replaced.

“Mulder, I’m more than aware that I’m an also-ran,” she said, looking down at the box of effects in her arms. “But it’s kind of you.” She’d been feeling like an outsider ever since she’d had to sit down in the HAB’s computer terminal immediately upon arrival to get her biometrics uploaded into the various systems so that she was able to access what she needed to. Everyone else was obviously already in the system. NASA had only been able to do so many things remotely.

The line of Mulder’s mouth thinned, but he turned back to the door and slipped the old nameplate into a pocket on his coveralls and pulled out a new one.

Scully raised her eyebrows.

“I had Shaw 3D print a new one on the Laruna,” he said, screwing it in with a quick zip of a small handheld drill. “There.” He turned to her.

“Welcome home,” she said to herself and passed him to open the door. Inside was a bunk and several pieces of furniture in the same layout as all the other sleeping/living cubicles. But on the bed sat the 100 pound box that also said BRINER.

Mulder remained in the hallway. “Unfortunately, that was a bit unwieldy for me to get out of here on my own,” he said in apology. “But I can grab Powers to help me with it, or send in HASS.” HASS was the HAB-Assist Robot that would live in the dome with them, able to assist the astronauts with anything from basic housekeeping duties to complex scientific experiments in the small HAB labs.

“It’s fine,” she said, looking at him. She was thinking about how she’d grabbed his hand after the incident with Henderson.

Mulder lingered for another moment and then bumped his fist twice against the door frame before turning and leaving. Scully watched him go, warmed a bit by his act of kindness.

Out in the hallway, above them all, the ceiling of the HAB rippled in the unrelenting Martian wind.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #wip #mars au

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 7 months

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youtube

Parker Probe's path through solar blast yields unparalleled space weather insights

NASA's Parker Solar Probe has racked up an impressive list of superlatives in its first five years of operations: It's the closest spacecraft to the sun, the fastest human-made object and the first mission to ever "touch the sun."

Now, Parker has one more feather to add to its sun-kissed cap: It's the first spacecraft ever to fly through a powerful solar explosion near the sun.

As detailed in a new study published Sept. 5 in The Astrophysical Journal—exactly one year after the event occurred—Parker Solar Probe passed through a coronal mass ejection (CME).

These fierce eruptions can expel magnetic fields and sometimes billions of tons of plasma at speeds ranging from 60 to 1,900 miles (100 to 3,000 kilometers) per second. When directed toward Earth, these ejections can bend and mold our planet's magnetic field, generating spectacular auroral shows and, if strong enough, potentially devastate satellite electronics and electrical grids on the ground.

Cruising on the far side of the sun just 5.7 million miles (9.2 million kilometers) from the solar surface—22.9 million miles (36.8 million kilometers) closer than Mercury ever gets to the sun—Parker Solar Probe first detected the CME remotely before skirting along its flank. The spacecraft later passed into the structure, crossing the wake of its leading edge (or shock wave), and then finally exited through the other side.

In all, the sun-grazing spacecraft spent nearly two days observing the CME, providing physicists an unparalleled view into these stellar events and an opportunity to study them early in their evolution.

"This is the closest to the sun we've ever observed a CME," said Nour Raouafi, the Parker Solar Probe project scientist at the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory (APL) in Laurel, Maryland, which built the spacecraft within NASA's timeline and budget, and currently manages and operates the mission. "We've never seen an event of this magnitude at this distance."

The CME on Sept. 5, 2022, was an extreme one. As Parker passed behind the shock wave, its Solar Wind Electrons, Alphas and Protons (SWEAP) instrument suite clocked particles accelerating up to 840 miles (1,350 kilometers) per second. Had it been directed toward Earth, Raouafi suspects it would have been close in magnitude to the Carrington Event—a solar storm in 1859 that is held as the most powerful on record to hit Earth.

"The potential damage of this class of event, large and very fast CMEs, can be colossal," Raouafi said.

Physicists have surmised that such an event today, if detected too late, could disable communications systems and spawn continent-wide blackouts.

Despite the eruption's power, Parker seemed unfazed. Its heat shield, radiators and thermal protection system ensured the Probe's temperatures never changed, said Jim Kinnison, the Parker Solar mission systems engineer at APL. Its autonomy system even triggered mitigation plans so the avionics suite worked without interruption. In fact, the only effect the CME had on the spacecraft was a slight torque—a tiny turn for which it quickly compensated.

"We knew from the beginning that Parker Solar Probe would fly through CMEs. That was part of the science objectives when the mission was established, so we designed the spacecraft from the start with an eye to surviving and, better yet, performing the science mission while in a CME," Kinnison said. "All in all, Parker proved itself to be robust and pretty tough, and all the hard work done in the design phase paid off."

Physicists have been interested in deciphering the forces that drive these stellar explosions and accelerate particles to such incredible clips. The only way to do that was to fly through one at the sun.

The science team determined the timeline of events and Parker's location during the CME by comparing measurements collected within the CME with those gathered outside it, including imagery taken by the Sun Earth Connection Coronal and Heliospheric Investigation (SECCHI) instrument on NASA's STEREO spacecraft. They built a simple model of the event, but given that nobody has ever taken measurements this early in a CME's development, some pieces were difficult to reconcile.

"You try simplified models to explain certain aspects of the event, but when you are this close to the sun, none of these models can explain everything," said Orlando Romeo, a space physicist at the University of California, Berkeley, and the lead author of the new study.

The team had determined three major intervals during the event, but piecing them together, Romeo said, was particularly confusing. Two sections they had seen before in CMEs when they arrived at Earth: the shock wave near the event's front followed by CME plasma, and another portion with magnetic and plasma characteristics typical of the sun's solar wind. But the third section—a low-density-region with slow-moving particles during the event—was new and odd.

"We're still not exactly sure what is happening there or how to connect it to the other two sections," Romeo said.

Advanced models that include more of the spacecraft's measurements will likely help, but passing through another CME would do even better. With the sun near the peak of its activity cycle, CMEs should happen more frequently. With a bit of luck, the team hopes, Parker Solar Probe will fly through several more ejections as it winds ever closer to the sun.

VIDEO IMAGE.....A composite of images collected by Parker Solar Probe’s Wide-field Imager for Solar Probe (WISPR) instrument captures the moment the spacecraft passed through a coronal mass ejection (CME) on Sept. 5, 2022. The event becomes visible at 0:14 seconds. The sun, depicted on the left, comes closest on Sept. 6, when Parker reached its 13th perihelion. The sound in the background is magnetic field data converted into audio. Credit: NASA/Johns Hopkins APL/Naval Research Laboratory/Brendan Gallagher/Guillermo Stenborg/Emmanuel Masongsong/Lizet Casillas/Robert Alexander/David Malaspina

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #astrophysics #parker solar probe #Youtube

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