#96-tan

[silver-la-pixels]

alright you weeaboo shits I (badly) made trouble windows OS tan in tomolife

[saibagals]

[maxlarens]

i promise i'm writing my max oneshot CURRENTLY but i had to get the sillies out about this really badly. australian spring/summer i love u i love u i love u!!!! also at this point i think the difference between a one shot and drabble on this account is non existent and simply based on vibes. this is only a one shot bcs it feels a bit more coherent i suppose?

LN: australia street

pairing(s): lando norris x piastri!reader, oscar piastri & piastri!reader

word count: 1.3k+

It all feels very familiar, nostalgic even— though you've never been in quite this situation before. With Oscar sure; you always rope your brother into doing things when you're in Australia again. But this is the first time that Lando's joined you.

It's nice, to be home.

Not that it's yours or Oscar's home anymore (that's not true. It always will be, no matter where in the world you jet off to). It's certainly not Lando's. It's hard to put words to the feeling, you just know it's nice.

You're driving, of course, because Oscar and Lando can never decide which of the two of them should drive. So you'd snatched the keys to the Piastri family '96 Holden Commodore and slammed the driver door behind you before either of them could say boo. Lando had snagged the passenger seat in a mad dash that you'd watched play out in the rear-view mirror, while Oscar had complained all the way to the backseat.

"Whered'ya wanna go?", you half turn your head to ask Oscar, checking your blind spot at the same time.

Oscar hums as he thinks. You can feel Lando's eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

"Do you remember that fish and chips shop—"

You do, "Where Dad used to take us? Yeah, it closed down," then you add, "Besides, Lando hates fish. Jeez, Osc."

"Ah fuck," Oscar groans, "That sucks."

Lando makes a noise, indignant, "I can't believe you forgot. It's my one thing."

Oscar rolls his eyes, "It's not your one thing, Lando. You have plenty of things."

They start to bicker, devolving into an argument that you only understand about half of, about pet peeves and the things the other one does that get on the other’s nerves. You chime in a few times to agree about Oscar’s annoying habits, the things you'd grown up complaining to your Mum about. Quietly to yourself, you decide on a route to an old Italian place you know is still kicking around— they won't mind.

You roll your window down, feel the balmy spring breeze in your hair, on your face. It smells like the bloom of jasmine flowers, of warmth, of the smoke of people BBQ-ing in their backyards. You breathe deeply, absently aware of the petered-out conversation. Oscar dozing in the backseat like he always does. Lando looking out the other window, watching gum trees and bottlebrush on the sides of the road. 'M looking for koala’s he'd said the other day, which had made you laugh. You'd been tempted to tell him about drop bears, but you're sure that Daniel had already warned him of the dangers.

"Do you miss it here?", Lando asks suddenly.

"Mm," you affirm, "I do."

"A lot?"

You shrug at the question, not sure why he's pressing it, "Sure, Lan."

"Then why do you travel with Oscar?", you spare a glance at him, he's fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist, the one you'd made him that matched the one you'd made Oscar that matched the one you wore, "Don't you want to, y'know, settle down here?"

You raise an eyebrow, scoff a little, "God, I'm not an old maid, dude. I'm not ready to pop out babies yet. Far out."

"No, no," he's blushing, you know he is, you don't even need to check, his tan cheeks growing a little darker, redder, "Fuck. That's not what I meant. You know what I meant."

You snicker. You do. But Lando is fun to rile up.

A latent sigh leaves your mouth, "I dunno," you admit, "It's my favourite place. But I have the rest of my life to come back, and besides, it's more special like this. I appreciate it more when I'm only here for a short time."

Lando hums, turning your words over in his head. You think he may be about to say something else—

"Do you like it here, Lan?"

You're not sure why you ask. No, you are. There's this fantasy that keeps floating around in your head. Little bits of it have been coming true on this trip. Lando standing in the garage with your Dad, talking about project cars and then showing him grease covered parts, explaining where they'll eventually end up. Your Mum roping you, Lando and Oscar into helping her cut vegetables at the kitchen counter. Your younger sisters giving you loaded looks behind Lando's back, you trying to pretend you have no idea what they mean by them. It's a pipedream, it's weird and you need to stop doing it.

But you can't. Sometimes, you look at Lando and your thoughts just pick up and run away with themselves.

Lando nods in answer to your question, "'Course. It's very," he trails off, fingers finding the beads on his bracelet again, he hums, "It's very you. Hm, does that make sense?"

You feel warm all of a sudden. Something creeps up your neck, settles at the base of your skull. You blink a few times, remind yourself to focus on the road.

You skitter out a laugh, an awkward thing, you're trying not to look at him, your hands tight on the wheel, "Yeah— uh— it does. I s'pose."

You lapse into silence for a short while. The sky is eggshell orange and purple and red, stretching out in front of you. Punctuated by the star-brightness of the street lights, terracotta tiled roofs and the shadowed branches of towering Eucalyptus trees. It fills you with a feeling you can't name— there's nothing else quite like it out there. Not in London, not in Monaco, not in any of the many other cities you've traveled to or lived in for a stint.

They're all gorgeous and interesting in their own right, but they don't live up to the special peculiarities of suburban Australia. The flash of a possum's eyes where it's skittering across a powerline. The faint sounds of kookaburras laughing as dusk falls. The glow of families watching TV in living rooms coming through screen doors left unlocked. Old men tinkering in wide open garages. Wheelie bins with red and yellow lids out on the curb— cricket stumps painted on the sides.

It’s special. In the way that home is always special.

Then Lando says, apropos of nothing, “Pretty.”

“Huh.”

He shrugs, gestures around at the neighbourhood, “It’s pretty. Warm too. I can see why your parents live here. Raised you guys here. I can see myself doing that.”

You decide not to tell him about the bipolarity of Melbourne weather. Cold to hot to wet to dry to gusty all in a few hours. You let him enjoy the rare consistent spring day. And you try not think about what he’s saying, what he’s admitting. You try not to think about what you might be admitting, driving him through streets you used to play in, to places you used to go with your family, talking about settling down, like it’s on the horizon anytime soon.

It’s not— you’ve not met anyone to settle down with.

At least you don’t think you have.

It’s certainly not Lando, in the passenger seat of the old family car, fresh off a day of meeting your grandparents for fuckssake and taking a tour of your childhood bedroom. Laughing at your old boyband posters and the teenage girl shrine you’d kept to Niki Lauda. It can’t be Lando, who you turn to when you can’t turn to your brother, who gives you his hoodies when you’re cold even though he’s colder, who’s come on a bloody trip to Australia in his four week break because you’d said you wouldn’t know what to do without him for that long.

It can’t. It’s not.

He’s talking in hypotheticals and you’re getting carried away with yourself again. Like you always do.

listened to this playlist while writing😌

[misctf]

Make it Make Sense

Adam sat at his computer, finishing up a calculus assignment. He was trying to stay focused, but his thoughts shifted to his weekend plans. A few of his buddies were going to get together to see the football game, and he was looking forward to his club soccer game on Sunday. For all intents and purposes, it was going to be perfect.

“Are you serious?” The nasally voice of Adam’s roommate interrupts his thoughts, “I don’t understand, this doesn’t make sense.” Kelvin says, irritation soaking his words.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, turning towards his nerdy roommate. There were nerds and then there’s Kelvin. At first, he was relieved to have a roommate that was going to focus on their studies. But Kelvin proved to be more of a distraction than he could’ve ever expected.

“You know what’s wrong!” Kelvin says, “Look!” He slams his most recent lab report on Adam’s desk, “A 91%! That’s an A-.” He grumbles.

“That’s a great grade.”

“No, no, no! You got a 96%!” He continues, “How did you get a higher grade than me?”

You shrug, “It’s not that big of a deal. You’ll do better next time. And I know people that would kill for that grade.” Adam says, turning back to his assignment.

“No. That still doesn’t answer my question.” Kelvin adjusts his glasses, “How did you get a better grade?”

Adam runs a hand through his brunette hair, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not supposed to be smart.” Kelvin retorts, “You like football and you play sports. Smart people don’t do that.” Adam raises an eyebrow, “You can’t be both.”

Adam chuckles, “Both?”

“A nerd and a jock!”

Adam smirks, “Alright, well why can’t I be both?”

“You can only be one.” Kelvin insists.

“Only one?” Adam chuckles. He wasn’t what one would consider a jock. Nor was he a total nerd. He always felt he was somewhere in the middle, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not much of either. What do you think?”

Kelvin gave his roommate a curious look, clearly thinking hard about the question. He slowly smiles.

“Well, I guess all jocks have big muscles. And I mean, those are certainly impressive.”

Adam raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself. He could see his biceps and triceps putting strain on his shirt. And his pecs seemed to be jutting out a bit more than he was used to. He lifts a hand and feels his muscular chest. It felt unfamiliar to him.

“What...?”

“And I guess it makes sense that you never wear a shirt. Jocks hate hiding their muscles.”

The chill of the room air tickled Adam’s skin, his eyes narrowing as his bare torso is on full display. Wasn’t he just wearing a shirt? He looks up at Kelvin, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Wow, I mean, I knew your muscles were big, but now I can really see them.”

Adam grunted as his musculature expands. His pecs filling with more muscle, while his biceps and triceps grew larger and larger. He let out a pained grunt as his shoulders broaden and his back fills with muscle. He frame a now hulking mass of manly muscle.

“And I always found it odd how often you shaved your body hair. Always going on about how being clean shaven helps highlight your pecs.”

Adam looked down and watched as his dusting of chest and belly hairs vanish. His skin now clean-shaven and slowly staining with a rich tan. A tan he got from all his shirtless runs. Shirtless runs? He shakes his head.

“Kelvin, wh... something isn’t right, bro.” Adam’s eyes widen, “Dude, seriously! Cut this out, bro!”

“Say ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ ironically enough times and soon it becomes part of your vernacular.” Kelvin mocked, “But I doubt you’re worried about that. You care more about finding the right lighting for a quick flex.”

Adam gasps as he feels compelled. He slowly flexes his bicep, the lighting perfectly highlighting his musculature and abs. He can’t help but grin.

“And I can tell you care even less for hygiene.”

Adam grimaces at the musky smell that wafts from his exposed pit. But slowly, his grimace shifts into a grin. Something about his man musk always brings him a sense of joy. The smell of a real man. He barely registers his brunette hair becoming lighter, until the brunette becomes a blonde.

“Yeah, a blond jock. That’s what makes the most sense.” Kelvin continues, “But outside of flexing and enjoying your own stench, I guess it would make sense if you were obsessed with...”

“W-wait!” Adam says suddenly, “Please... Kelvin...” He looks desperately at his roommate.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense.” Kelvin reassures, “Because jocks like you are dumber than a lamppost. Barely even able to do basic math. So obsessed with your body that you don’t have time to nourish your brain.”

Adam’s eyes widen as he can literally feel his brain shrinking. His intelligence, knowledge, and kindness quickly being overwritten. His school smarts replaced by gym routines and different poses. His empathy and kindness twisting into self-indulgence and narcissism. His eyes glaze over as they reflect his new IQ. A smirk forms on his chiseled face as brazen overconfidence overwhelms any semblance of decency. He looks up at Kelvin.

“The fuck you lookin’ at nerd?” He scoffs, “You like what you see, bro?” He flexes his biceps.

Kelvin smiles, “Don’t you have soccer practice?”

“Pfft soccer, bro? Really? Shit sport. I gotta lift.” Adam retorts. He looks over at his computer, “What the fuck is that?” He quickly exits out of his calculus assignment and stands up.

“Wait, Adam...”

“Adam? Nah bro. I’ve told you 100 fuckin’ times to call me AJ.”

“Right. AJ,” Kelvin says, “Don’t you need a shirt for the gym?”

The dumb chuckle that follows is music to Kelvin’s ears, “Nah bro, why’d I hide this?” He flexes again, “Trust me, the dudes and chicks at the gym dig this.”

Kelvin watches as AJ slams the door behind him. A grin forming on the nerd’s face. Everything made sense now. And while Kelvin celebrated his newfound comfort with reality, AJ took great pride in the looks he was getting from the people he passed by. Flaunting his muscles at every chance he got. His smaller brain satisfied with the attention. His dick twitching from the excitement of being lusted after. Because to him, this made sense. Who wouldn’t want to ogle over his hot bod? That’s right, no one.

[ahollowgrave]

Just some lil' rambling about MSQ DT. For folks beyond level 96 in MSQ. Specifically something that is said to the WoL near the start of 96.

When the WoL and Erenville are repairing the traintracks they seek out the Hhetsarro people of Mehwahhetsoan to ask if they would part with tinder. We meet with Hhwato, the chief, and his son, Shepetto. Shepetto is excited to meet you and says:

<sniff> You've a most curious air about you. Of oil and steel, tanned leather, and the faintest hint of...

What he says next changes depending on race. At least, that's my best guess. Shepetto to Odette:

…fair winds blown from a distant shore, though I know not where. I gather you are not from these lands?

Shepetto to Yein, of @iron-sparrow fame:

...roses of a most unusual variety. I gather you are not from these lands?

Originally, I thought perhaps the job was what determined it as Iron was a PLD and I was a WHM at the time. However, Sif (of @whitherwanderer fame) got the same one as Odette despite being different jobs. So I went digging and found all the things Shepetto might say and there are 8 options, which aligns neatly with our 8 playable races. Anyway there is no point to this other than I thought it was neat when I realized it! And it was fun to puzzle over with my friends, and see in which ways Shepetto's comment fit them! I'm curious to know how well his comment resonated with your OC!

[the-universe-carries-on]

LoTF Character Appearance Chart:

I think there used to be one of these, but the person left Tumblr. My copy is the Penguin Great Books copy (teal cover), so it might be different from yours. Bear with me.

Ralph: Fair hair (p. 1), Grey shirt (p. 1), 12 years old and a few months (p. 4), wide and heavy shoulders like a boxer (p. 4), mild mouth and eyes (p. 4), biggest on the island (p 15), Ralph started with hair at half an inch (p 96), bites his nails to the quick (p 96), His mother is dead as he claims mummy was still with them (p 99)

Jack: Tall, thin and bony (p. 13), red hair beneath his choir cap (p 13), face crumpled and freckled and ugly without silliness (p 13), light blue eyes (p 13), biggest choir boy (p. 14), freckled (p 15), sandy long hair (p 39), sunburnt (p 39), tall (p 57)

Simon: skinny and vivd (p 16), straight black coarse hair (p 16), smaller than Ralph and Jack (p 17), small (p 46), darkish in color and tanned deeply (p 46)

Piggy: Wind-Breaker (p. 1), Shorter than Ralph and "Fat" (p. 1), Thick glasses (p. 1), Pale (p. 6), tans to golden brown (p 54), wispy hair as though baldness was his natural state (p 54), different accent than the others (p 54)

Roger: slight, furtive boy (p. 14), dark boy (p 15), doesn't darken by tanning (p 50), black hair down to his nape (p 50), swarthy skin (p 52)

Johnny: Six years old (p. 11), Sturdy and fair (p. 11), well-built with fair hair (p 50), china blue eyes (p 50)

Maurice: second largest choir boy (p 14), broad and grinning all the time (p 14)

Samneric: Bullet-headed with "hair like tow" (p. 12), not enough skin when they smile (p. 12), unsuspected intelligence (p 31), unable to do things apart (p 84)

Mulberry Boy: about six years old and a shrimp (p 27), mulberry colored birthmark on one side of his face (p 27)

Henry: Biggest littlun and distantly related to the mulberry boy (p 49)

Percival: Mouse-colored and not very attractive (p 50)

Phil: Self confident littlun (p 73)

Littluns: A dark little boy (p. 11), Uniforms colored grey, blue, fawn (p. 11), Hair in brown, fair, black, chestnut, sandy, mouse-colored (p. 12)

Extra Information: Simon Robert and Maurice are in a grey area between littlun and biggun (p. 49), Jack's original paint is one cheek and eye socket white red on the other half of his face and charcoal from right ear to left jaw (p 51), Maurice Simon Piggy and Ralph were not present for the first pig killed (p 56), Jack and Ralph both think Africa is a country (p 71), Bill slaps Johnny to get him to stop crying (p 88), Robert laughs at Simon when he bashes into a tree (p 91), Simon predicts his own death (p 98), they bit Simon as he died. They cannibalized him (p 136)

[dontaskmemybias]

Ryder's OT8 Recommendations

One Shots

Storm clouds at midnight @sunmoonjune Supernatural fic where witch reader gets involved with werewolves. No explicit smut but holy shit it was just so good. Suggestive in all the best ways.

Series

Whose love masterlist @skzwaves Something to lovers that is different for each member. So well done, each fic is a masterpiece. I'm in love.

Sharing a bed series Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin @skzdarlings Who doesn't love a sharing the bed trope fic? Each one of these was so good and I love that Darling made the Hyung line f2l and the Manke line enemies to lovers. The Han one had me crying laughing and the Chan one was so sweet. Each one has it's own unique personality and I loved them all.

Threesome series Chan/Seungmin, Changbin/Minho, Han/Felix, Hyunjin/Jeongin @skzdarlings The Han/Felix one is on this list twice because it is just that good. All of these are fantastic works. Darling really kills it every single time they write.

Masterlists

Rhythms masterlist @therhythmafterthesummer Rhythm | ‘96 | any pronouns. Rhythm has written some of my absolutely favorite posts on this site. Their one shots are incredible and the wereroomies series was my first look into supernatural fics and I've never been able to look back! Give them some love ❤️

Lixables master list @lix-ables kriss/riri ‧₊˚ she/her . twenny_1 Kriss has written so many fics on here and they are all so good! Surely you'll find something you like on their page.

Stay the word master list @staytheword marianne (mari) ; she/her ; 90s. Mari has such a poetic way with words, each time I read her fics I feel like I am reading a novel. Mostly writes longer fics but man are they worth it! Check her out!

Christmas evel @j-0ne25 Tan [she/they] | ‘98. I put two of Tan's masterlists on here because the Christmas evel series is how I was introduced to their amazing works. This series shows the group in fantastical scenarios and the princess works on this list are some of my favorites to come back to time and time again.

J-One25 masterlist @j-0ne25 Tan [she/they] | ‘98. If you are looking for more realistic fics then check out Tan's masterlist here! The scenarios are all so amazing and they have written so many incredible works for the guys!

Hyunsvngs masterlist @hyunsvngs Juno [she/her] 20. Juno's Fairy Flower's series brought me to her page. I am normally too impatient to wait for series to finish but I ended up reading the first chapter before it was done and I remember waiting for the next one to come out because I just had to know what happened next. Incredible writer, I highly recommend checking out all her oneshots as well!

Minniesmutt masterlist @minniesmutt 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 '0𝟐 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐏 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘. Karma's NSFW blog, filled with toe-curling fics that will have you blushing. I love their writing style which is why their blogs are both on this list! Check it out if you are 18+!

J-onedrabbles masterlist @j-onedrabbles 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 '0𝟐 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐏 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘. Karma's SFW blog, full of adorable fluff pieces and one of my first mutual blogs. This blog has a special place in my heart.

2chopsticks2eyes masterlist @ 2chopsticks2eyes Late 20s | She/her (Or King/The baddest bitch to my squad). Lua truly is such a baddie. Hard Lee Know stan who loves Minsung! Some of her fic's have triggering topics but she handles the topics so well. I find myself checking her page all the time for new fics because she just writes so well.

[worldofgyaru]

While I’ve liked and learned about gyaru for years, I just figured out what 46 and 96 gal means 😭 

‘4′ in Japanese is pronounced as ‘shi’

‘9′ in Japanese is pronounced as ‘ku’

‘6′ in Japanese is pronounced as ‘ro’

So 46 sounds like ‘shiro’ which means white (gyaru who don’t tan).

And 96 sounds like ‘kuro’ which means black (gyaru who tan themselves, i.e. kuro gyaru, ganguro, and yamanba/manba)

I’ve seen people use #46gal and #96gal for years and had absolutely no idea what it meant. The more you know I guess 😭😭😭

[ladywaffles]

From the prompt list: icemav + 6. patting the other’s head?? If it inspires

icemav + patting the other’s head

i do not know the meaning of brevity. send me a pairing and a prompt!

To be a fighter pilot, you have to have ego.

It’s not just a requirement, it’s an immutable law. It’s on the checklist of fighter pilot eligibility. One: candidate must be a United States citizen of sound mind and body. Two: candidate must have a four-year degree from an accredited educational institution. Three: candidate must have ego the size of the Grand Canyon and the guts to back it up.

Fighter pilots are young, good-looking guys who grow into stately, well-tailored men. Elegant. Gentlemanly. Airs of class that have since ebbed away in the general population, but which find a home in the handful of officers who call themselves naval aviators, and they wear them damn well.

Ice has always been particular about his appearance; it’s hard not to be painfully aware of it, with twelve years of detentions earned for uniform infractions at elite private schools and four years of the Naval Academy bearing down on him. He holds it together through the six months of hellish diagnoses it takes for the doctors to figure out what’s making him sick (cancer), where the cancer is (his lungs), and where it metastasized to (his throat). There’s never a hair out of goddamn place through the whole endeavor. But when they finally figure it out and get him on a chemotherapy plan, the pristine picture of the Iceman falls apart.

His tan is the first to go; if he’s being honest, it was already on its way out. It’s been nigh on ten years since he was last in a cockpit, and trading his F-14 for another stripe on his sleeve meant he hardly saw the sun in his cramped offices. Maverick used to tease that he looked like a vampire, losing the California bronze that’s been embedded in his skin since he was old enough to walk. Jokes like that are far and few between now that it’s no longer the job that’s draining his color, but his own body.

In the end, it’s easy to let the tan go. What really gets him, what really hurts, is when his hair starts falling out. Iceman has impeccable hair. The sun rises in the east. The facts of life. He puts off shaving it as long as he can, because yes, it’s just hair, and yes, it should grow back—the doctors assured him it would probably grow back—but dammit, he’s a fighter pilot, and he has his pride.

He sulks about it for weeks: gently combing his hair, putting as little product into it as possible so as to prolong the life of the strands that remain, taking shorter showers to reduce the likelihood of tufts of blonde falling out and running down the drain.

Maverick is solid at his side, his own hair dark as the day they met. In the deepest parts of his heart, he hates Maverick just a little bit for it. The asshole doesn’t even have the decency to be going gray yet, and here Ice is losing it all.

But then Maverick will tell him he passed his driving test and got a proper driver’s license so he could drive Ice back and forth from his appointments so Ice wouldn’t have to ride in a smelly taxi on the way home when he’s already starting to feel nauseous, or he’ll smile at Ice when he gets home and say, “Hey, I called up Wolf and he found that baked potato soup recipe from that place we ate at in ’96,” or he’ll sit at Ice’s side at two in the morning on the bathroom floor when the vertigo has Ice kneeling at the altar of the porcelain throne, even though he has to be at the base at five-thirty to do briefings and pre-flight checks, and Ice can’t remember why he was annoyed about Maverick’s hair at all.

Maverick drives him to his next chemo appointment. He sits in the waiting room, perusing the latest copy of People Magazine. Maverick hates People Magazine, but there’s not much else the hospital waiting room can offer in terms of salient literature, so People Magazine it is.

Ice goes back for his chemo treatment. Phil, his technician, doesn’t say much as he putters around the room, hanging IV drip bags here and flipping switches on medical equipment there. When Ice is all hooked up, they chat about inane things. Phil recounts his daughter’s swim meet. Ice responds with tales of his own swim meets, back at the Naval Academy. Phil says his son signed up for flag football, but God bless him, he’s shit at the sport. Ice promises that he’s not going to get much better at it, if he sucks this much at it now; he’s got his own scars from high school to prove it.

Phil unhooks him from the infernal treatment and books him for an appointment in two weeks. Maverick puts down People Magazine—a different issue than he was reading before, Ice notes—and drives them both home. He helps Ice into the living room and lays him down on the couch with the quilt that Carole made for their sort-of-fifteenth-anniversary. He kisses Ice on the forehead and goes to the kitchen to start dinner, and Ice is out like a light.

When he wakes up again, the sky is a dusky gray. It’s just past sundown. Maverick let him sleep for hours.

“Mav?” he calls out. Ice pushes himself up off the couch, his elbows creaking as he goes. “Maverick?”

“In here!” Maverick replies from the guest bathroom. “I’ll be just a second!”

Ice hums and goes into the kitchen. There’s a pot on the counter, but it’s not one of theirs. He lifts the lid; savory chicken congee, with ginger root and scallions. The Reyes’ must have dropped something off while he was asleep.

“Oh, yeah, Martin came by with some soup,” Maverick says behind him. “He says there’s no better cure than his wife’s arroz caldo, not even your mama’s chicken noodle soup.”

Ice puts the lid back on the pot. He turns to Maverick, ready to bear all of his weight down on his partner, because chemo is a bitch and he feels exhausted just standing here in his own kitchen—

—And flinches.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?” Ice cries. Maverick cracks a grin, his signature Colgate smile.

“Do ya like it?” he asks.

Like it? Ice reaches out for his head, and Maverick leans in. He runs his hand over Maverick’s scalp, feeling the smoothness of his skin. He passes over the whole landscape once, twice, his fingers tripping over the tips of Maverick’s ears and the nape of his neck, as if he’d find something there like a magician performing a sleight of hand, but there’s nothing there.

“It’s all gone,” Ice laughs, somewhat hysterical. “It’s gone, it’s gone! What did you do? What the fuck did you do!”

Maverick shaved all of his thick, dark hair off. All of it is gone. All of Maverick’s damnable, doesn’t-have-the-decency-to-go-even-a-little-salt-and-pepper hair has disappeared.

Maverick smiles, teary himself. “Yeah, babe, it’s all gone.” He takes Ice’s hands in his and holds them tight. Ice tries to fight his own tears, but they’re doing what they please.

“Mitchell, what the hell?”

Maverick laughs. “C’mon, Kazansky, give me some credit. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you worrying about your hair falling out.” He cups Ice’s chin with one hand, looking straight into his eyes. “I thought you’d be less scared of it if we did it together.”

“Maverick,” Ice starts.

He doesn’t know where to go. It’s a grand gesture, that’s for sure, and if fifteen-odd years of knowing Maverick have taught him anything, it’s that you cannot always listen to what Maverick Mitchell says, you must only listen to what he does.

“Maverick,” he says again.

“Ice,” Maverick replies. “Let’s eat. And when we’re done, we’ll call Slider up and tell him what I did, and you can make as much fun of me as you want—for tonight only!—and we can talk about what you want to do next.”

They end up eating dinner in the bathroom. Maverick takes bites of his congee in between bouts of shaving off Ice’s hair as Ice huddles in the tub, ducking his head keep anything from falling into his own bowl. When they’re finished, they cram next to each other in Ice’s office and call Slider on Skype. His laughter is piercing through the laptop speakers and echoes down the hall.

And when Slider arrives ten days later, to, “Make sure Mitchell isn’t leaving you to fend all for yourself, I mean does he even know how to make a proper chicken noodle soup,” he knocks on Ice and Maverick’s front door sporting a grin and a freshly-shaved head.

Fighter pilots might have egos, but they’re a fiercely loyal bunch, too.

[tijanatasmaric11]

— 1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

4. Are you easy to get along with?

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

15. What good thing happened this summer?

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

19. Do you like bubble baths?

20. Do you like your neighbors?

21. What are you bad habits?

22. Where would you like to travel?

23. Do you have trust issues?

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

26. What do you do when you wake up?

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

30. Do you ever want to get married?

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

33. Spell your name with your chin.

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

40. What do you want to do after high school?

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

43. Do you smile at strangers?

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

46. What are you paranoid about?

47. Have you ever been high?

48. Have you ever been drunk?

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

53. Favourite makeup brand?

54. Favourite store?

55. Favourite blog?

56. Favourite colour?

57. Favourite food?

58. Last thing you ate?

59. First thing you ate this morning?

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

62. Been arrested? For what?

63. Ever been in love?

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

65. Are you hungry right now?

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

67. Facebook or Twitter?

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

69. Are you watching tv right now?

70. Names of your bestfriends?

71. Craving something? What?

72. What colour are your towels?

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

75. Favourite animal?

76. What colour is your underwear?

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

80. What colour pants?

81. Favourite tv show?

82. Favourite movie?

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

87. First person you talked to today?

88. Last person you talked to today?

89. Name a person you hate?

90. Name a person you love?

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

92. In a fight with someone?

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

95. Last movie you watched?

96. Favourite actress?

97. Favourite actor?

98. Do you tan a lot?

99. Have any pets?

100. How are you feeling?

101. Do you type fast?

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

103. Can you spell well?

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

108. What should you be doing?

109. Is something irritating you right now?

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

111. Do you have trust issues?

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

113. What was your childhood nickname?

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

115. Do you play the Wii?

116. Are you listening to music right now?

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

118. Do you like Chinese food?

119. Favourite book?

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

121. Are you mean?

122. Is cheating ever okay?

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

125. Do you believe in true love?

126. Are you currently bored?

127. What makes you happy?

128. Would you change your name?

129. What your zodiac sign?

130. Do you like subway?

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

134. Can you count to one million?

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

137. How tall are you?

138. Curly or Straight hair?

139. Brunette or Blonde?

140. Summer or Winter?

141. Night or Day?

142. Favourite month?

143. Are you a vegetarian?

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

145. Tea or Coffee?

146. Was today a good day?

147. Mars or Snickers?

148. What’s your favourite quote?

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

[specialtycoffeemx]

☕✨ Prensa Francesa: Sabor Intenso y Cuerpo Completo✨☕

La prensa francesa es un método icónico para disfrutar del café de especialidad. ¿Por qué es tan popular? Con este método, los aceites naturales y los sólidos del café permanecen en la infusión, lo que da como resultado una taza con mucho cuerpo y un sabor profundo. Aquí te dejamos algunos tips para perfeccionarla:

1. ⏳ Tiempo de infusión...4 minutos es el tiempo ideal para extraer todos los sabores.

2. 🌡️ Temperatura del agua...Entre 90°C y 96°C para evitar un café amargo.

3. ☕ Molido grueso...Asegúrate de que el café esté molido de manera gruesa para una extracción uniforme.

¡Atrévete a probarlo y experimenta una taza rica y llena de matices! 🍃☕️

#FrenchPress #CaféDeEspecialidad #CoffeeLovers #CaféPerfecto #PrensaFrancesa #BaristaEnCasa #CaféMéxico #AmorAlCafé #CoffeeTime #métodosdeextracción

[saibagals]

Ka-tan

[finfinfan1997]

Lost Fin Fin short film was shown at "Comdex Asia '96" in Singapore

"Apparently, Prime Minister Tan personally visited the venue and had a close encounter with Fin Fin, which was displayed on a plasma display. The incident was featured in Singapore's Business Times, and footage of Prime Minister Tan looking at Fin Fin's head was broadcast throughout Singapore."

[allthecanadianpolitics]

There has been a sharp increase in the number of babies born in Canada with syphilis, an infection that one doctor says "can be particularly devastating in pregnancy."

"It can lead to outcomes such as fetal demise … or stillbirth," said Dr. Darrell Tan, an infectious disease physician at St. Michael's Hospital in Toronto, and the Canada Research Chair in HIV Prevention and STI Research.

"And then in a child [born with syphilis] there can be many, many manifestations … it can affect organ systems like the brain, the bones and joints, virtually any organ system in the body," he told The Current's guest host Mark Kelley.

Figures from the Public Health Agency of Canada (PHAC) show that there were seven cases of congenital syphilis in 2017, but 96 cases in 2021 — an increase of 1,271 per cent over four years. A similar trend has been observed south of the border. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[brooklynislandgirl]

borrowed with grace from new friend Vee over @reyestr

FIRST MEETINGS MEME

A meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a ‘What you will notice about my muse first’ cheat sheet.

Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Fill in details.

(Please do not remove the credit + blank meme link)

blank meme: x

GENERAL APPEARANCE

Sex: Masculine. Feminine. Non-Binary. Notes: Beth was born a cis-gender female and most of the time she's comfortable in that shape/body.

Race: Polynesian/Caucasian {Hawai'ian and Irish, respectively, or as she'd say it, hapa-haole}

Complexion: Beth's natural skin tone is a tawny/dusky shade that might be compared to sand or toast. Most public photos taken of her tend to lighten her skin as much as possible per the Admiral's request. When she spends her time out-doors she tans easily and resembles more her Island kin than the Irish side of the family. Beth tends to wear minimal make up, and when she's doing a dramatic look she usually sticks to eye make up and bold lipsticks, highlighting what she considers her best features. Upon closer inspection one might notice a small constellation of tiny freckles that hover around the right side of her mouth and chin, and another sweep of fainter freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her skin tone leans towards the autumn spectrum, and it is incredibly fine, soft.

Height: Beth is just barely five feet tall.

Body Type: Endomorph. Mesomorph. Ectomorph. Other / More Details: Beth is actually somewhat underweight for her size, ranging between 90-96 lbs. Most of her curves tend to remain in her hips and backside, and her chest is narrow, sporting a very modest b-cup.

Body Build: Small. Medium. Athletic. Muscular. Soft. Curvy. Voluptuous. Other / More Details: Beth has been called small, delicate, bird-boned. From behind or at a minor distance, she has been mistaken for a young teen or larger child. It is hard for her to put on or maintain muscle tone.

Body Hair: None. Shaves/Waxes. Trims/Grooms. Untamed. Color: The colour on her arms and legs matches that of her hair, a dark to medium dark brown. Notes: Beth's body hair tends to be incredibly fine, almost non-existent, and thus she doesn't feel the need to wax or shave very often.

Head Hair: None. Buzzed. Short. Medium. Long. Very Long. Asymmetrical Cut. Color: Naturally Beth has dark brown almost black hair with natural red highlights. Occasionally she might do a subtle colour, either deep auburn or honey-brown. Style: Beth tends to style her hair to within an inch of its life, keeping it sleek and straight so that the Admiral has nothing to complain about. Naturally it tends to be incredibly wavy/curly {3b hair}, with a tendency to become a touch frizzy in moist/damp air. Most of the time Beth keeps her hair long and loose. For work it's in a ponytail or bun, and when her mental health is at its absolutely lowest, she hacks it pretty much down to a bob.

Eye color: Beth has green/brown central heterochromia,which is what most people call hazel. Her noticible colour is green, with an almost honey brow mixed in. It is a far softer colour than her brother's.They tend to shift colour via lighting or dilation of the pupil. Details: Wide, upturned eyes tend to give her a Disney-Princess look. Her lashes are naturally long and thick.

Scars: Beth's left leg has a large shark-bite scar from the bottom of her knee to the top of her ankle. Within the borders of the scar the muscle is visibly atrophied and has the texture of something close to a burn scar. The tendons are shortened, making her left leg a fraction shorter than her right.

FASHION

Fashion Style: Vintage. Traditional. Casual. Artsy. Vibrant. Geeky/Nerdy. Tomboy. Sporty. Trendy. Preppy. Girly. Bohemian. Elegant. Formal. Grunge. Punk. Rocker. Gothic. Other:

Color Palette: Beth tends to wear seasonal colours {lighter pastels in the spring and summer, darker secondary colours in the fall and winter}.

Typical Clothing: Beth tends to wear as little clothing as she can manage without making a scene. During warm weather she tends toward camisole tops or bikinis. She tends to wear ankle/floor length skirts. For work, she wears scrubs. Beth does. not. wear. pants. unless she's out jogging, doing yoga, or wearing a wet-suit. And while she has a walk-in closet full of designer and custom gowns and other clothing, the kinds of which would make Paris Fashion Week drool in their dreams, she tends to prefer vintage clothing.

Piercings: Beth's ears are pierced in multiple places which differ from ear to ear. She has a sub-dermal piercing at her hip.

Tattoos: Beth has a tattoo of a honu {sea turtle} on the back of her left hip, whose shell contains the Hawai'ian archipelago and a hibiscus flower. Other tattoos vary verse to verse.

Other Information: Beth tends to hate shoes and will wear 'slippahs' whenever she can get away with it. At home she tends to be barefoot, or during cold snaps, she might tolerate socks. She likes to wear rings, bracelets, earrings when not at work. She keeps her nails manicured.

EXPRESSION

General Facial Expression: Beth's features tend to be open, friendly, and at worst, neutral.

Default Body Language: As stated above, she tends to have open, inviting body language that changes only when/if she has disengaged with someone, or it's the Admiral. Around the Admiral her body language is closed, defensive, on the verge of flight/fight.

General Movements: Beth's incredibly graceful from a lifetime of surfing, swimming, dance. She tends to flow through the room, slow and cautious. The longer she has been awake, or the longer she's been on her feet, it becomes apparent that she does have a faint limp, due to shortened tendons and ligaments, atrophied muscle in her shark-scarred leg.

NOTABLE FOR RP

Presence: Beth's entire presence rests on the fact that she is warm and gracious, curious until she's given reason not to. Everyone is treated like a friend. As such, she tends to be a soothing comfort, and someone a person can open up to easily.

Appearance: Beth is always perfectly dressed for every situation, impeccably garbed in public, perfect but often subtle make up. This does not carry through to being at home where she feels comfortable.

Scent: She makes her own essential oils/lotions and people tend to describe her as tropical; lightly floral, a touch of sea salt, coconut, macadamia, something very faintly herbal. Too soon after work, she tends to carry the smell of hospital antiseptics {and/or blood}.

Voice Description: Her voice tends to surprise people. Being so short and slight, most people expect her to have a high/thin/child-like voice. She speaks so softly that she rarely speaks above an audible whisper, and her tones tend to be a little husky/smokey, warm, layered. When she does have to raise her voice, it is the kind that doesn't brook arguments and carries the tone of command of a queen or a soldier, though she is neither.

Accent: yes / no More information: Beth has always had problems with certain digraphs {th in particular} and is most comfortable speaking her native pidgin with a slight speech impediment. She can, however, speak perfectly serviceable "Haole" {American English}. She also understands a host of other languages, and takes a small measure of pride in being able to pick local idioms/slang easily, despite her audio processing disorder.

Speech Mannerisms: Beth tends to be a touchy person; conveying meaning or clarity with minor touching of other people's hands, knees, shoulders when speaking closely. She also tends to gesticulating while she's talking. When she speaks "Haole" it is far slower, measured, careful than when speaking pidgin, with slight pauses occasionally as she struggles with a phrase or sounding out words in her head. When conversing with someone, she tends to watch the person's mouth and eye area to pick up contextual clues and mouth-shapes to help bolster her understanding.

Anything else to add? Beth tends to sometimes come across as the most real person in the room, is magnetic despite her best efforts. However, if she doesn't want to engage with someone, she tends to slowly slip away from their thoughts/memories, until she is absolutely forgotten. Perhaps the eeriest noticible trait is that she never fully blinks. Her eyes tend to only half close, three quarters at best. {It almost feels like she's missing a nictitating membrane}. The second most noticible trait is that she has small, sharp teeth, almost preternaturally so, and slightly crooked. {{Certain kinds of hunters and others like her recognise these as 'primal markings' and might speak to her slightly less than human dna}} {{Beth's main face claim is Kristin Kreuk, and her secondary face claim is Smiley Arianne}}

[the-strange-world]

Since a lot of fans have been concerned about groups having very young members, here’s a list of bgs where all members were born before 2005 for you to stan/support & what years the oldest and youngest members were born in

*I’m not very familiar with all of these groups

Seventeen (95 - 99)

THE BOYZ (96 - 00)

TEMPEST (98 -02)

TXT (99 - 02)

E’LAST (96 - 02)

DKZ (00 - 04)

JUST B (01 - 02)

NINE.i (98 - 04)

OnlyOneOf (92 - 99)

Xdinary Heroes (98 - 02)

CRAVITY (99 - 03)

XEED (92 - 96)

UP10TION (95 - 98)

TAN (96 - 04)

CIX (98 - 01)

PENTAGON (92 - 98)

VICTON (94 - 99)

MIRAE (98 - 04)

ONEUS (96 - 00)

ONEWE (94 - 00)

BAE173 (99 - 04)

GHOST9 (00 - 04)

DRIPPIN (99 - 04)

LUCY (92 - 97)

KINGDOM (97 - 02)

NewKidd (94 - 03)

Golden Child (93 - 00)

ASTRO (94 - 00)

MONSTA X (92 - 96)

VIXX (90 - 95)

ATBO (03 - 04)

A.C.E (93 - 97)

SHINee (89 - 93)

Ciipher (96 - 03)

LUMINOUS (98 - 00)

VAV (91 - 97)

VANNER (94 - 97)

JWiiver (97 - 02)

BLITZERS (01 - 04)

ATEEZ (98 - 00)

Stray Kids (97 - 01)

BLANK2Y (98 - 04)

MCND (99 - 04)

ONF (94 - 99)

The Rose (93 - 94)

2Z (96 - 02)

AIMERS (98 - 03)

BXB (00 - 03)

BDC (99 - 01)

VERIVERY (95 - 03)

AB6IX (97 - 01)

SF9 (93 - 00)

Balming Tiger (94 - 00)

DKB (97 - 04)

YOUNITE (01 - 04)

WEi (97 - 01)

withus (98 - 02)

Please let me know if there’s any other lists you’d like me to make, if you want any more info on these groups, recs from them, or anything! I’ll be making some post highlighting underrated groups soon 💜