#foxtrot group

[extrajigs]

NEW WORLDBUILDING PROJECT BABYYY!!!

Concept: World covered entirely in microbial mat and whose macrofauna are pentapods. One of which is a sophont. 

1. The world itself is a little smaller than Earth, but is also the third planet from it’s star and has two moons. It has a pretty even climate with no icecaps due to it’s very thick hothouse atmosphere, even despite it’s p crazy axial tilt. It’s atmosphere is similar to Earths but contains a lot more water vapor and methane and less nitrogen. The surface of the planet is covered almost entirely in microbial mat, to the point where actual ground is buried miles deep and the world would be entirely covered in ocean if not for the mats. The only ‘land’ comes from mounds of organic material built up from the sea floor that have grown large enough to finally breach the surface.  Names Planet: Backera  Bigger Moon: Milcer Smaller Moon: Daunverr Sun: Sentil 

As for the macrobiology I’m still working it out but right now there are two basic groupings of terrestrial pentapods. Subject to very likely change. 

First are the Eyebacks. Who are most known for uh, having eyes on their back. They also have their gills open on their neck and need to submerge time and again in water to breathe correctly.

2. That group includes this lil beastie, the Foxtrot, who lives up to their namesake being a crafty lil ankle biter. They are a fast lil critter who prowls the coast for small fast moving prey. They are also quite capable swimmers and swap between land and sea whenever they need to grab a snack or avoid becoming one. 

3. Another Eyeback is the aquatic Mynar, who uses their big ass nose horn to scrape away at the mats and stir up fresh food. Generally they stay in water only a few feet deep, moving on to find the freshest growth. Their life style leaves them with a coating of their own though, stained by the food they stir up. 

Second group are the now tripodial Elytra’s, who have badass lil beetle backs, and have lifted their front two limbs up to use for object manipulation. They are terrestrial but still rely on water for their tadpole larval stage. 

4. This is called a Thwap, because they are very aggressive and use those first set of limbs for smacking anything that makes them even slightly uncomfortable. These are predators that focus on terrorizing smaller prey, loosely associating in groups of 3-10 individuals.  

5. The SOPHONT!! I have no idea what to name these guys, so ideas are welcome! I just knew I wanted to give ‘em big ole eyes. They are a omnivorous people descended from hypercarnivorous ancestors. Their culture is centered around large families, usually a ‘wife’ and their many ‘husbands’, but the main thing to set them apart from the rest is the amount of care put into raising their offspring. They will have large pools dedicated to their lil babies until they’re ready to be walking around. Not super advanced technologically since y’know, iron and other metals is somewhat inaccessible. But maybe that’ll change, still thinking of how I want to set up the planet. 

More to come, I want to develop the biology of the mats a lot more. I got hella good ideas for some biomes I want. 

[justabigassnerd]

Safe and Sound

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 2,151

Warnings - mentions of death, angst, fluff

Summary - On the uranium mission, two of the people you care most about get shot down

A/N - I had to I'm sorry. I'm on a Rooster kick and I had to write for him. For the sake of this fic, Hangman has a WSO because I said so and reader's callsign is Pegasus. This is probably actual horse shite bc I've never written Top Gun before but you won't learn anything by not doing it so I gave it a go. Anyways, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

This mission was one no one at Top Gun could stop talking about. Your father, Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick, had to whittle down a group of twenty of the top graduates from Top Gun down to six. You made him promise to be fair and not just pick you because you were his daughter because the moment you knew you were the WSO for Jake Seresin, you knew you stood no chance. Hangman was a good pilot. A great pilot even. He just had an ego to match your father’s and would leave his wingmen out to dry at any given opportunity.

Your boyfriend, Bradley Bradshaw, had tried to convince you that there was no way your dad wouldn’t pick you. He would constantly praise how you were one of the only teams to make it through the trial run and land the closest hit to the target. Every time he reminded you of that, you just reminded him that the second after that steep climb, Hangman flew off, which would mean leaving your wingman to get blown to smithereens by SAMs in the actual mission. Rooster thought it was unfair, that the daughter of Maverick was stuck as a WSO, but you kept reassuring him that it was your choice. You enjoyed flying but you got nervous sometimes if you were the one piloting the aircraft, so you left it to those who were more comfortable.

When it came time for the mission to be carried out, all candidates were waiting anxiously on the aircraft carrier to find out who Maverick had chosen to fly alongside him in the mission. When Cyclone asked for who would be joining him on the mission he surveyed the pilots, knowing each one of them have trained so hard for this moment.

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.” He announces the Foxtrot teams first, you watch as the four relax and share a smile with their friend. You heard Hangman release a small huff of annoyance, but you ignored him, knowing you’ll get your chance in due time.

“And your wingman.” Cyclone prompts. You cast a glance across the room at Rooster and could see how nervous he was. You knew him and your dad had a rocky history since your dad pulled Bradley’s papers at the naval academy, so you hoped your dad wasn’t going to pick someone else.

“Rooster.” Maverick says, making Bradley straighten up and nod slightly. Maverick then announces that you and Hangman are the standbys in case something goes wrong on the mission. The teams head up to the carrier’s runway and you approach your dad.

“You better not do anything stupid out there.” You say in a weak attempt to be funny, but you couldn’t deny the nerves that were eating away at your stomach because your dad and your boyfriend were risking their lives.

“We’ll be there and back in record time. I’ll bring that boyfriend of yours back safe and sound too.” Maverick replies with a reassuring smile as he brings you into a tight hug before turning to get into his jet. You then turned around to find Bradley and saw Hangman walking away from him, throwing you a smile as he passed.

“You okay?” Bradley asks gently as he rests his hands on your hips, his eyes watching you carefully.

“You better come back alive, Bradshaw.” You say, watching as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Wow, demoted to last name basis?” He manages to joke, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m serious Bradley. You better come home.” You repeat, making Bradley let go of your hips and cup your face gently in his hands.

“I’m going to do my damn hardest to get home to you.“ He says, rubbing his thumbs across the apple of your cheeks, bringing a smile to your face as you lean into his touch.

“I love you.” You say, both you and Bradley leaning in for a kiss.

“I love you too.” He whispers. Just before you could reply, you hear Fanboy yelling for Rooster to get in his jet and you take a step back.

“I better get going. I’ll be back before you know it.” Bradley says, pressing one last quick kiss to your lips before hurrying over to his jet and climbing into the cockpit, blowing you a kiss before you turn to get into the jet with Hangman. You watch as the four jets take off and fly in the direction of the uranium plant.

“And now we wait.” Hangman says, leaning back in his seat and throwing a glance over his shoulder at you.

“Hopefully we don’t have to do anything.” You reply, watching as the F-18’s quickly become specks in the distance before the missile strike is sent from the carrier to destroy the enemy aircraft’s runway. You could hear what was happening over the radio and you listened intently to what was going on.

“Come on babe.” You whisper to yourself when you hear that Rooster needs to speed up as him and his wingmen are behind schedule. You knew he had a cautious approach to flying and you pegged it to be because he lost his father when he was young and didn’t want to meet the same fate as Goose. Your dad had always told you ‘don’t think, just do’; at that moment, you knew Rooster needed to take your dad’s advice, whether he liked it or not. You and Hangman cheer happily when you hear two confirmed hits, and that the uranium plant is destroyed.

“Now they just have to make it back.” Hangman says with a smile, turning back to you. Both of you are filled with unwavering optimism that this mission is going to be a success. You both knew that there were SAMs so the teams had to fight to make it back, but you had no doubt that they’d be able to make it home.

“Dagger One has been hit. I repeat: Dagger One has been hit.” That one sentence made your heart plummet into your stomach. You could hear Rooster trying to reach Maverick through the radio but was met with no response. You couldn’t believe it. Your dad, one of the Navy’s best pilots was shot down in the blink of an eye.

“Dagger Spare request permission to launch and fly air cover.” You heard Hangman speaking to the radio tower, wanting to get into the air to help with the bandits being so close to the remainder of the team.

“Negative Spare.” The response angers you. The team needed help, and you couldn’t believe they were making you just stay put. You blink away the tears angrily and listen to what was going on. You could hear everyone being told to come to the carrier while Rooster was fighting the idea, wanting to look for your dad despite no one seeing a parachute. The next thing you knew you heard frantic calls and announcements that Dagger Two had also been hit and people trying to get a response. Your heart was now shattered. First your dad and then Bradley. Two of the people you love most in this world are gone within minutes.

“Pegasus, you okay?” You hear Hangman ask, an unusual softness to his voice. You couldn’t find your voice and remained staring blankly at the back of Hangman’s seat.

“y/n?” Hangman tries again, this time using your name instead of your callsign. You managed to force yourself to react and looked up to where Hangman was looking at you with concern over the top of his seat.

“They’re gone.” You whisper, tears seeping down your cheeks as the other jets land on the carrier, returning to their spots with the pilots climbing out.

“Are you going to be okay if they need us? I can ask someone else to jump in.” Hangman questions, making you shake your head.

“No, I’ll be okay. I just need a second.” You reply quickly, wiping your eyes and steeling your gaze, knowing you need to be strong right now just in case you’re needed. You fought the pit growing in your stomach and tried to stay focused, trying not to think about your dad and your boyfriend lying dead on enemy territory somewhere. You knew that you and Hangman had to be standing by just in case the bandits followed the others back to the carrier.

“Dagger Spare stand by. We have spotted Rooster on our radar in an F-14 and suspect Maverick is with him too.” You hear someone over the radio say and both you and Hangman leap into action, prepping the jet for take-off. Your heart was pounding, threatening to break your ribs, and burst out of your chest from how hard it was beating. They were alive, and you needed to help them get home.

“Dagger Spare standing by. Ready to take off when needed.” You say, flipping the switches to activate your radar while Hangman moves the jet into position to take off. When you’re cleared for take-off, it only takes a matter of seconds for the jet to get airborne.

“Pegasus, keep an eye out for any bandits, okay?” Hangman says and you nod in acknowledgment, glancing at your radar and at your surroundings. You fly in the direction of where the radio tower told you Rooster was coming from. As you travel you spot an F-14 being trailed by another more advanced jet.

“Hangman, that has to be them!” You say, pointing the jets out to him.

“Target the jet.” Hangman orders which you listen to, targeting the enemy jet easily.

“You’re clear to fire.” You say once you’re locked on target and Hangman doesn’t waste a second firing the missile and blowing up the bandit as you connect your radio to the F-14s.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your saviour speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions. And prepare for landing.” You roll your eyes and laugh at Hangman’s words but couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief as you look over to the other jet and see your dad and boyfriend.

“Hey, Hangman, you look good.” Rooster says.

“I am good Rooster. I’m very good.” Hangman replies with a cocky smile.

“Way to ignore your girlfriend Bradshaw.” You say with a laugh.

“You look amazing, baby. You always do.” Rooster says with a smile.

“Keep your flirting off the channel. We can talk back on the carrier.” Your dad’s teasing tone comes over the radio, bringing a slight blush to your cheeks as you fly back to the carrier. You and Hangman land first just before the crew prepare for your dad to land the F-14 with no front landing gear. You wait and watch anxiously as they land and the second you see them emerge from the cockpit, you’re leaping out of your jet and bolting towards them. You grab your dad in a hug first, hugging him so tight he was convinced you were going to snap him in half.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.” He whispers reassuringly, hugging you equally as tight to comfort you. You remain in your dad’s hold for a couple of minutes before Maverick looks up to see Rooster watching with a small smile on his face.

“I believe someone is waiting to say hi to you.” Maverick says with a smile before releasing you from his hug and turning you around, so you were face to face with your boyfriend. You wasted no time in bringing him in for a kiss, it was messy but helped reassure you that he was here in front of you and that he made it home to you.

“You are an idiot, Bradley Bradshaw. You scared me to death. I thought I lost both you and dad.” You say the moment you part for air. You were beyond grateful he made it back with your dad, but you couldn’t help but be a little angry that he went against orders to do it.

“I’m sorry babe. I just had a gut feeling that Mav was still alive and I couldn’t just leave him to die.” Bradley defends himself apologetically, bringing you into his arms and resting his chin atop your head as he runs a gentle hand up and down your back.

“I’m just so glad you both made it home.” You whisper against his shoulder, hugging him slightly tighter as you speak.

“Safe and sound. Just like we promised.” He replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nod.

“Hey, lovebirds, break it up! Celebratory drinks, let’s go!” You hear Payback yell, making the two of you pull apart but not before pressing another kiss to each other’s lips.

“Shall we?” Bradley asks, offering you his arm.

“We shall.”

[izvmimi]

*please give examples and say which f/o!

*if you pick a classical dance who leads?

[sorya-lee]

Ephemeral.

HunterxTraitorJedi!Reader

Genre : Fluff with a sprinkle of angst.

Warnings : Order 66 innuendos, non-spoken feelings, mutual pining

Summary : You're a Jedi who betrayed the Republic and the Council but you're still working for them, waiting for the right moment, the wake up call of your master. Lost deeply in your thoughts and worries, a certain Sergeant had decided to distract you.

This one-shot was inspired by my own OC story.

It was one of this day, another mission in this never ending war. You knew things were going to change soon but you didn't know if it was for the best. You were scared to say the least but confident or you're trying to be. Because there is no going back. Not after all the sacrifices and the price was too beautiful to let it go now. Your suffering, your anger, your pain, it could never be repairable. And the Jedi Order had to pay the consequences of their pride and blindness that you could not stand anymore.

You were deep lost in your thoughts, it seems like you were meditating, your back leaning against the cold metal wall of the Marauder, the ship of your own squad. You were a particular Jedi and that's why special forces were assigned to you. You weren't particularly fond of taking back a new squad of clones after what happened to Foxtrot Group at Sarrish. But Clone Force 99 grew on you and you already like clones on the other hand. But this squad take the cake, they were all so unique and special. Effective in battle and incredibly funny out of field.

If there is one clone that you were particularly fond of was Hunter. The leader of your squad and your subordinate. You didn't know if it was because of the chain of command but you had an interesting understanding of eachother. But it was a forbidden bond, you sense in the Force that that attraction was more than a General to a Sergeant relationship. You were pining for eachother, hard.

Hunter was the little ray of sunshine in your life. The war, the Jedi Council, the conspiracy... Your life was clouded and a storm was brewing, nothing very joyful or peaceful had happened in a long time. That's why it was maybe easier to let Hunter in your life, turning your heart and your mind upside down without naming what was this feeling properly. After all, we were at war and you weren't selfish enough to make him suffer with your future actions, yet. It was too late for that.

You were lost deep in your thoughts and worries when a gently nudge at your shoulder interrupted you. You lift your head and open your eyes to meet the brown ones of your Sergeant. You smile slightly to hide whatever you were feeling moments before, something like pain and anger. You raised an inquiry eyebrow inviting him to speak.

"Sorry to interrupt you General." He apologized soflty, his deep low voice even more deeper because of his tone that could be misinterpreted as a whisper. "You should head to sleep we had a long day."

Your smile grew wider in a thin line. Hunter, always worrying for you, even if you were a trained and capable Jedi.

"Are you trying to boss me around Sergeant?" You asked, teasing evident in your voice. You also could sensed in the Force that Hunter's energy was different than usual, he was also tired, even more than you.

"I wouldn't dream of it General." He answered simply. You put a firm hand on his left shoulder, you were about to invite him to go to sleep as well but you felt something else in the Force. Ah, there it is. This strong bond between the two of you, hidden deep in your respective fatigue. Your hand slipped from his armored shoulder to his black, you felt him shivered at the unexpected caress, but you didn't stop. You didn't know what's had gotten into you but in a way it's a thing that you had to cling to. To feel safe and alive. Away from the tourments that you were causing to yourself.

Your eyes were scanning each of his expressions. His eyes go from your hand to your eyes, to your lips and that's when you shivered yourself. The only idea that Hunter's lips could be on yours was a very dark and intoxicating temptation because it was forbidden for both of you. Your hand leave his black to his exposed skin, his neck. The contact of your skin against his in such a unusual place sent you spiralling and you were sure it was the same for Hunter because his eyes closed briefly, he swallowed hard and took a deep breath as if he had to steady himself.

Your eyes softened and you tilted your head. Your hand didn't continue on his face as he would have expected. No. It slipped behind his neck to his scalp and his locks. They're a mess because of the mission of today despite his helmet encaging it. But it didn't stop your from scratching his scalp tenderly and intertwining your fingers with his locks. He closed his eyes because of your tender touch, something he wasn't used for from anyone. He never knew the tenderness of a mother touch and do not count on his brothers to give that kind of touch...

You broke the silence after a minute. "I... We should go to sleep." You said with regrets in your voice not wanting to stop at all what was going on right now. But you couldn't take the chance to be caught by his brothers either. Lucky for you both, Crosshair was cleaning his rifle, Tech was piloting and Wrecker was sound asleep but you couldn't just stand in the corridor like this.

Hunter's heightened senses were on the edge. Since the minute he disturbed you, he sensed your heartbeat fastly increasing, your natural smell was bewitching him because of how close you were but your touch on him was what drove him crazy. He wouldn't stop for nothing in this galaxy either. It was one of the realest thing he ever experienced in his life. In this war, there was no place for attachment, he was meant to be expandable, cannon fodder, for a galaxy that he'd known so little but only by Kaminoan files. He wasn't supposed to mean something for someone, just an ephemeral shadow in this vast galaxy.

But there you are, a Jedi, his general, his superior. He shouldn't be doing this, kriff, he shouldn't think that it's possible to be this close to you. You made an oath too but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help this closeness, this attraction, this bond it was too much to just let it slip away. And he could die tomorrow, so could you. Everything is supposed to be ephemeral.

This is with this mindset that he catched your retracting hand with his gloved one. You gasped soflty and looked in his eyes, something shifted in the way he was looking at you, he was bold and determined.

"No." He says simply. "I mean... We could take this more privately." He trails not realizing the double meaning of his words, your cheeks reddened and you scrunched your nose and eyebrows in confusion.

He looked at you and suddenly realized. He let go of your hand and put it behind his head, all shy suddenly. "N-no... That's not what I meant. My hair is a real mess and I think you could do... Something about it... Without my brothers... Without risking to be seen." He said quickly but still low so none of his brothers could hear his demand. Hunter went from the confident Sergeant you knew on the battlefield to a babbling mess scared he had offended his general.

You took his other hand in yours, take a glance at your surrounding and with a slight movement of your head you told him "Come on."

He followed without asking question. You grabbed the blanket they lend you for the cold nights and you climbed the ladder to the tail gun, the only place were you could hope to have a little bit of intimacy. Hunter climbed behind you as you settled the blanket on the cold metal floor and you sit. The gun chair was taking a big space but you could manage to make some room, Hunter had to just lean down.

You invited him with arms open but he looked at you incredulously. You chuckled and told him softly "Lay down on my lap Sergeant." He hesitated then made up his mind and sit down then lay his head on your lap. He was tensed you could sense it. You trailed a hand on his face and you took off his bandana gently. Some small locks fell on his face. You took the bandana, looked at it, you passed your thumb on the skull and smiled a bit. You took his hand which was laying on his stomach and you put the bandana in. He clenched at it and with his other hand he stroked your arm.

Then you started working. At first, you just played with his hair slowly and you scratched his scalp from time to time. Hunter closed his eyes even if he wanted to keep looking at your concentrate face, he couldn't help but feeling relaxed by your touch.

You realized that you forgot your comb and that you couldn't just move. You let one hand in Hunter's hair, still stroking his forehead and his hair and with the other, you concentrated to see the place where you let the comb this same morning and you used the Force. Some moment after, the comb was in your hand and you heard a slight chuckle as you open your eyes and faced Hunter who also had open his eyes.

"I love when you do that." He simply said. "And why that?" Did you ask in return as you start to comb his soft locks not resting from your previous ministrations.

"Because..." He took a moment to look for the right words. "It makes me feel like you're one of us."

"How's that?" You genuinely ask. "Well, you're special."

You scoff, cheeks red. "If it was another Jedi General it would have been the same you know." You just answered like if it was just a normal thing, but not for Hunter.

"I don't think so. No. I know so." He said, repositionning his head on your lap and closing his eyes. It was true, which general would have taken care of him and his brothers like you do. Which general would comb his Sergeant hair on their lap? No one. But you do.

In a way, you felt guilty because in your heart, it looked like your just doing it to lighten your actions and the future ones. But you genuinely cared for them, for him. Or you wouldn't have asked to retrieve your beloved squad once everything would have been done. Everything would be the same between you but even better, because you would be free, free to love who you want to love. And no war would stop you. Peace will be brought again to the galaxy and you will be free.

"You don't believe me." He said opening one eye with a slight smirk on his handsome face, interrupting once again your dark thoughts. That's exactly why you loved him, he was the light in your dark times.

"It's not about what you said, it's about me struggling to believe that it could be true for me."

He raised one hand and stroke the side of your head and your hair. "I don't know what you are fighting for within you, but you know you can always rely on... me." Hunter wanted to say on "us" but for once, he didn't wanted to involve his brothers in the confession you were making to him and him only.

"You're special." He said soflty but deeply. "If you're not special amongst the Jedi, at least if it's what you like to believe, you are special... for me." You hold the hand which was on your face, you catch it and intertwined your fingers with his and you rest your hands on his chest, just above his heart. Your eyes, soft and filled with adoration were looking at his face and your other one lost itself in his hair between stroking and scratching his scalp.

You didn't spoke oppenly about your mutual feelings, but you knew it was better this way.

All that happened for the past half hour with Hunter was like a bubble. Everything was slow and gentle, as if time had stopped around you, as if there was no war and no secret conspiracy. You didn't have to be a Jedi nor a General in this moment. And he didn't have to be a Sergeant or a Clone in this moment. It was just Hunter and you and the rest of the Galaxy could burn, you wouldn't care.

You lost yourself in this peaceful moment like your fingers were lost in his now soft and combed locks, your worries far away even if they were closer than what you'd like. Your eyes scanning his peaceful and resting features. You didn't know if Hunter had fallen asleep, but you couldn't care anymore, you wouldn't stop. After all, in your heart, you knew this moment was ephemeral.

Thanks for reading !

[theangelscryinblood]

Falconry AU by hurrraaid

I hope they don’t mind me doing this but I’m grouping all the links for their brilliant GhostSoap FalconryAU so i don’t have to keep scrolling a mile for the whole thing. 

This took ages to do so I can only imagine how long the actual work took. Make sure to give this brilliant artist some love over on their blog. 

ONE (eejit in the river)

TWO 

TRHEE (jealous of an eagle)

FOUR (messy soap)

FIVE (seeing ghost)

SIX (ferret time)

SEVEN (kinky deer)

EIGHT (ROACH!)

NINE (mute roach, annoyed ghost)

TEN (tunnel vision)

ELEVEN (wrestling?)

TWELVE (dad jokes)

THIRTEEN (doodle)

FOURTEEN (just jealous)

FIFTEEN (drunk soap)

SIXTEEN (take two)

SEVENTEEN (cute roach)

EIGHTEEN (morning after)

NINETEEN (whisky tango foxtrot)

TWENTY (meltdown)

TWENTY ONE (hehe🤣 )

TWENTY TWO (thirst trap)

TWENTY THREE (price drops bombs)

TWENTY FOUR (melting soap)

TWENTY FIVE (simp ghost)

TWENTY SIX (perils of sunlight) 

TWENTY SEVEN (first aid)

TWENTY EIGHT (BSL)

TWENTY NINE (knock gaz)

THIRTY (uniform) 

THIRTY ONE (poor soap)

THIRTY TWO (hell spawn roach 😈😁)

THIRTY THREE (teacher price)

THIRTY FOUR (poor gaz haha)

THIRTY FIVE (hola Las Almas) 

THIRTY SIX (ex-wife the eagle)

THIRTY SEVEN (good old boy)

THIRTY EIGHT (glasgow kiss)

THIRTY NINE (piranha)

FOURTY (a bet)

FOURTY ONE (angry rudy 😊)

FOURTY TWO (ghost lure)

FOURTY THREE (sweet giant, tiny bug)

FOURTY FOUR (a fine plan)

FOURTY FIVE (oh ale, poor rudy)

FOURTY SIX (meirda)

FOURTY SEVEN (looming ghost)

FOURTY EIGHT (rudy is the braincells and sick of it)

FOURTY NINE (i take that last comment back)

FIFTY (he used simon, not good)

FIFTY ONE (finally we’re getting there)

FIFTY TWO (FINALLY!💏)

FIFTY THREE (-fans self-)

FIFTY FOUR (lucky boys)

FIFTY FIVE (ale won)

FIFTY SIX (the demon strikes again 😈)

FIFTY SEVEN (soap and eejit)

[mykneeshurt]

hi!! happy new year!! 💗

I love ur writing, and I was thinking to drop this request;

so may request some hc’s of cod task force 141 (+ alejandro, könig, graves and rudy) :))

feel free to skip this if youre busy, just wondering, happy new year :)

Sorry this one took me some time, I got too in my head about it. It was so hard to not be bitchy to Graves lmfao, Soap is my favourite enjoy! SFW. Let me know if you want NSFW ones

Price 🥃

He supports Liverpool FC, no I won’t hear any different

His favourite non-alcoholic drink is ‘builders tea’

Glenfiddich 18 is his Whisky of choice

Favourite colour is khaki green

Is the father figure of the group, strong, reliable, approachable (everything my dad wasn’t lmfao, I still love him)

He wears a plain t-shirt pyjamas to bed, sleeps on his side, one arm under his head, absolutely snores

His favourite breed of dog is a Collie, or any working dog he can walk for miles for in the country side

He absolutely loves Bargain Hunt on TV

His favourite smell is fresh gingerbread

He’d make an excellent grandfather tbh

Soap 🧼

Despite being Scottish he supports Blackburn FC, an underdog (I refuse to comment on the Celtic vs Rangers, far too much history there. And I’m Welsh, it ent for me to say haah)

He absolutely loves winding the boys up about being English

His text tone is SCOTLAND FOREVVAAAA *aggressive bagpipes*

Soap 100% sleeps in the buff

His favourite dog would be a Labrador, nice active family friendly dog

He’s a chatterbox but a good listener when he needs to be, will often give some surprisingly good advice

He’s an iPhone wanker

Absolutely a mummy’s boy, would do anything for her - he’d love to pay off her mortgage for her

His favourite smell is the cheesy paws of his dog for real

He’s not a morning person, he loves a lie in when he can

Ghost 💀

Ghost supports Manchester City, he just gives me those vibes ok?

His favourite weather is rain/storms

When he’s home from a mission he’s a bath guy, he showers all the time on base, so when he’s home it’s hot ass bath with an audio book and his bourbon

He has two cats that his neighbour looks after when he’s away, two British blue shorthairs. Called Foxtrot and Whiskey

He also loves rabbits

He loves helping beginners at the gym

His favourite tv show is The Simpsons, something easy and colourful to watch to distract him from what he’s seen

He smells like Dior Suvage (anything musky and heavy)

He’s ambidextrous

He loves a cooked dinner, beef, roast potatoes, all the veg, stuffing and all the Yorkshire puddings

He’s got his tongue pierced, I’ve seen the fan art. You can’t tell me other wise.

Gaz 🇬🇧

He gives me Arsenal vibes, so he supports them

But also supports Chicago Bears in American Football

He’s gentle, reserved so he’d have a rat as a pet, highly intelligent

Fish and chips with curry sauce is his favourite meal, a proper British geeza

He smells fresh, think a bright spring day, fresh linen and cut grass

He loves the sunshine

He’s a keen gardener, grows his own herbs and vegetables

His house is spotless, minimalist, but has a huge book collection

He loves caramel lattes despite the banter from the boys, he has a sweet tooth

Loves meeting the boys down the pub on a Sunday for a carvery

Alejandro 🌹

He’s an excellent cook, his favourite hobby when not on a mission is trying out new recipes for Los Vaqueros

This man sleeps in silk sheets, tell me he doesn’t?

He’s fiercely loyal his country, he loves Mexico and is passionate about it through and through

He’s got a great sense of humour, enjoys making people laugh

He runs marathons for charity in his spare time

His favourite subject in school was history

If you’re sad this man gives the best hugs, he’ll make you a strong ass coffee and give one hell of a pep talk

His favourite smell is fresh cocoa beans, always stealing the nibs to eat

Him and Rudy have film nights with their families when they’re home

He’s 100% a girl dad, teaches her how to shoot with nerf guns in the garden

Rudy ❤️

He has a German Vizsla called Pollito, because her legs look like chicken drumsticks

He 100% has an android phone

He’s an armature photographer in his spare time, he loves nature

He and Alejandro have personalised ringtones for each other

His favourite food is Seafood paella

He owns a small farm, sells the produce to the local area, he loves animals

He once won a poetry competition

His favourite colour is orange

Sorry but he wears lynx Africa (I like it sue me)

He likes to game in his spare time, anything from farm simulator to RPGs

König 👑

He loves drawing, anything creative, he’ll draw/paint the Austrian countryside to de-stress

He grew up on a small farm in the Austrian mountains, he has a very close family

He doesn’t like large crowds, worried people stare at him because of his height, feels claustrophobic sometimes

He bites his nails when his hands aren’t busy or covered by gloves

He’s a cat guy 100%

He’s left handed, 100% a lefty but holds his gun right handed (its a struggle, I’m left handed)

He’d like a family one day, he’s got a lot of love to give

He smells like leather, sandalwood and vanilla

He loves eating raw cookie dough, vanilla and chocolate chip

He holds the record for the hardest punch in his home town

Graves 🇺🇸

His favourite holiday is July 4th, he does a huge fireworks display whenever he’s home

His favourite food is Gumbo

He smells like Paco Rabane Invictus

He’s got 3 Dobermans, whom he loves with all his heart. Ben, Jacob and Molly

He has a white picket fence - obviously

He doesn’t have a good relationship with his father, daddy forced him into the army to gain approval

He sleeps in red plaid pyjamas and has matching slippers

He’s fluent in French, he learnt it to pick up girls

He loves hiking in his spare time, with his 3 dogs

He runs support groups for veterans on a Thursday a local library

[eagna-eilis]

Star Wars Characters at a Family Wedding in Ireland

ANAKIN - Gets extremely nostalgic about his own wedding and makes his adult twin children groan in embarrassment. Is in such a good mood that he isn't even mad when Leia calls him a fascist for voting Fine Gael, and manages to give his grandson an effective pep talk.

PADMÉ - So resplendent that the bride is almost jealous but honestly how could you be upset with her she's just so nice. Gets giggly tipsy over dinner and waltzes with C3P0 afterwards. Touches up literally everyone's makeup for them throughout the night and does a better job than the actual makeup artist.

OBI-WAN - Waits til the night is winding down then magically locates a squeezebox, fiddle, a guitar, and a tin whistle and hands them out to start a sessiún. The sing-song goes on until 5am and it's all his fault. His signature song is 'The Lass of Aughrim' because it makes him feel all literary.

R2D2 - Has at least four too many double Jamesons and literally starts arguing with the wall. Shmii finds him passed out under a table the next morning, wherein he swears he's not drinking until Christmas.

C3P0 - Wrecks the heads of the hotel staff over dinner with all his requests, to the point of embarrassing the other people at his table. Conducts impromptu ballroom dancing lessons while the band plays and charms the pants off everyone with his patient explanations of how to foxtrot.

LANDO - Pulls out a deck of cards and starts a game of 21s in the corner. Absolutely swindles everyone. It's okay though because he puts his winnings behind the bar so nobody has to pay for their drinks after that.

AHSOKA - Brings enough weed to share with a chosen few, like an absolute queen. Ends up hanging out in the loo for ages rolling for herself, Sabine, Maz, Kanan, and eventually Ben. Despite her relative stillness and quiet, she enjoys the music more than basically anybody else and people will quote her fondly slagging Anakin over dinner for the next 20 years.

SABINE - Camera queen who tries to look like she isn't enjoying herself. Fools nobody because she keeps grinning and snort-laughing. Her photos are a thousand times better than the photographer's and are the ones that the couple use for their album.

HERA - Helps Leia gang up on Anakin about politics because goddamn it, Leia isn't wrong. Hands out isotonic powder sachets and paracetamols to everyone before they go up to bed. They're gonna need it.

EZRA - Gets so hyper after consuming so much 7up that Hera has to send him to bed before the DJ takes over from the band. Sneaks down later for the cocktail sausages.

DIN DJARIN - Couldn't get a babysitter so he's tucked up at home watching The Late Late and hate-tweeting it.

GROGU - fell asleep in front of The Late Late. Delighted when somebody brings wedding cake to the house the following day.

KANAN - Literally will not be at peace until the DJ plays Kenny Rodgers' 'The Gambler' because it's not a wedding without it. Once that's done he insists on 'Come On Eileen'. Somebody's gotta be the keeper of the flame of tradition, after all.

CHEWBACCA - Requests all the group dances. Rock the Boat, The Siege of Ennis, The Macarena, The Walls of Limerick, Chain Reaction. Bullies everyone into joining in, except Ben who is the absolute antithesis of craic.

LUKE - Every wedding requires at least one merrily drunk uncle and Luke does not disappoint. Suit jacket? Gone. Top buttons? Open. Tie? It's now around his head while he stands on a chair playing air guitar to 'Hotel California'. Ends up puking in a flower pot. Iconic.

LEIA - Would have been okay if she stuck to wine all night but a single gin and tonic on top of the shitty hotel merlot and suddenly she's having an hour-and-a-half political argument with Anakin. Embarrasses the hell out of her parents, brother, and son by smooching Han repeatedly while dancing.

HAN - Organises the pre-ceremony pints. His sotto-voce asides are funnier than anything in the speeches. Quietly sings along to 'Brown Eyed Girl' by Van Morrison in Leia's ear while they dance, prompting all that smooching.

FINN - Sneaks into the hotel's public bar to check the hurling scores on the telly then reports them back to all the lads. Keeps his wits about him regards alcohol so he can take care of Poe later but eats so much cake he feels sick.

POE - Holds court in the bar, telling long anecdotes about his life that are only 75% true. Dances and flirts with all the aunties and nanas and makes them feel great about themselves. It doesn't convince Ahsoka to give him a spliff, though, because she is immune to his charms.

ROSE - The boomers yell at her for getting the DJ to play 'Celtic Symphony' by the Wolfe Tones, but she calls them hypocrites who are oozing postcolonial shame. Anakin offers to adopt her because now she's the centre of the politics argument. Knocks it out of the park at the sing-song because she knows all the words to at least 20 rebel songs.

MAZ - The first to place her handbag down on the dancefloor so as to coax the other nanas onto the floor. Jovially flirts with every man over 18 and under 60 that isn't her blood relation. Asks Poe to marry her.

REY - Finishes at least three other people's dinners. Sings along very loudly to every song that the band AND the DJ plays. Can't dance at all but it doesn't stop her. Should probably check on Ben because she knows what he's like but decides that tonight he's his family's responsibility. Loses her entire shit when ABBA plays.

BEN - Zero craic, God help the poor craytur. Drinks brandy as an affectation and starts quoting James Joyce after four of them. Gets extremely mopey after brandy number six and ends up having a long heart to heart with his Grandda Ani. Cries then throws up. Auntie 'Soka gives him a joint to settle his tummy. Subsequently feels better and then knocks everyone's socks off singing 'Raglan Road'.

SHMII - Begs off the party at 10pm because she's 97 years old. Still makes sure that everybody takes their hangover down to breakfast the following morning for a Big Feed of rasher-sausage-and-pudding, and maybe hair of the dog if they're desperate.

[ujalayi]

“This hero veteran fought bravely for YOUR Republic in the clone wars and asked for nothing in return. Find a way to get him the right pomade, aruetii…”

Dank ferrik! He’s a Dapper Dan man!

You’ve heard of Elite commando/Captain of Foxtrot group Gregor, get ready for Mando!Gregor.

Compiling the sketches and AU ideas courtesy of the psychic damage I took after watching TBB War Mantle again - pass the bacta!

Anyways- AU where Gregor reconnects with his instructor/ drill sergeant after being rescued on Daro - gets a shiny new suit of armor, all the resources he needs for his PTSD and TBI, and a little family who loves and looks out for him between missions with his brothers to help other clones. Most importantly though - he doesn’t die on Lothal because the beskar holds up under fire.

I want to clean this up a little more later and I am still brainstorming, but sound off if you are a fellow Gregor appreciator!! I would love to hear other people’s thoughts like what do you think Foxtrot Group was like etc. With your help + contribution we can post even more Gregor!

[m-ayo-o]

ok... so (content planning below)

Manwha : Under The Oak Tree. Genre : smut

So I have an idea ft. Maxi, Riftan, Ruth, plus reader insert, involving oral, threesome/group sex, and guidance. It's been in the back of my mind for probably YEARS at this point and I still haven't got round to writing even an outline, but the image and idea is so clear in my head it probably won't take long to write. It's driving me crazy so I might write this one soon.

Valentine's Event : happening now!

Zodiac Event : one more tiny fic coming

Requests : still closed (thank u sm for respecting this it has been perfect, so well behaved of u all)

Thirsts/asks/chat : open

Foxtrot : ongoing! part two coming soon ft. 21+ megumi stealing toji's gf...

The Money Store : ongoing! sub toji part two coming soon because i enjoy writing it sssososo much

two longer (ish) megumi fics in progress ft. roomate au and an unusual threesome... :3

I have a paranormal fic idea that includes possession but may get quite dark. Others include mythical creatures (humanoid only, eg. succubus / incubus / hybrids etc. may go into omegaverse and hybrid characters soon)

Obviously not gonna stop writing jjk just wanna mix things up a bit.

Been enjoying lil Toru drabbles (feels like I'm practicing)

Always got Kento ideas (but I feel like it has to be particularly special to focus on it because the Kento writers on here go hard. Makes me feel like I don't need to write it as bad)

Wanna write so much for Suguru...

Got some Naoya and Choso thoughts

Also very tempted to write for the pretty boy that is Hajime Kashimo

Have a strong desire to write househusband Toji

Got a couple of tiny Yuji wips

Sukuna can suck it. (jk I can't write him for shit also the Sukuna writers out there are actually astounding)

Possible event ideas ->

1: "The Gods" event : incorporating stories of ancient myths

2: "Songspiration" : short weekly drabbles inspired by lyrics (could involve a voting system)

so feel free to come chat about anything you'd like to read in particular! ^^

[mentalisttraceur]

Speaking Hexadecimal

Fluently and Unambiguously

I previously proposed a way of saying hexadecimal numbers clearly and efficiently in English, but that was only good for situations where it was otherwise unambiguous that the numbers were in base-16, and it still had some room for getting "wires crossed" with base-10. Now I finally have a proposal I'm satisfied with to finish the job:

We first add distinct words for the six extra "digits":

A is alf, B is brav, C is char, D is delt, E is eck, and F is fost. These are based on the pronunciation of the first six NATO phonetic alphabet words: "alpha", "bravo", "charlie", "delta", "echo", and "foxtrot", except that: we simplify "foxt" to "fost" to make it easier to say, we change the spelling of "alph" to make it more accessible to people not familiar with English's "ph", and the spelling of "eck" makes it obvious that it's a K sound, not a CH sound.

Then we replace "-ty" with "-tex". "-tex" is meant to be evocative of "hex", but the "t" fits the pattern of English number words better:

So 20 in hexadecimal is twentex, not "twenty". 21 is twentex-one, 22 is twentex-two, and so on. 2A is twentex-alf, 2B is twentex-brav, and so on. 30 is thirtex, 31 is thirtex-one, [...], 3A is thirtex-alf, and so on. Fortex, fiftex, sixtex, seventex, eightex, ninetex, alftex, bravtex, chartex, deltex, ecktex, and fostex.

English has special words for 10-19, but we can just use the same regular pattern in hexadecimal for 10-1F as for 20-FF. So 10 is ontex. It's "ontex" and not "onetex" to match the speed and distinctiveness that we get with twenty, thirty, forty, and fifty having slightly different pronunciations and spellings versus two, three, four, and five. 11 is ontex-one, 12 is ontex-two, 13 is ontex-three, and so on.

100 is "hunhex". This continues the mnemonic pattern - English number word, with a hexadecimal-hinting ending. 101 is "one hunhex and one," or just "hunhex and one" for short, just like we say decimal hundreds. 201 is "two hunhex and one", 2D4 is "two hunhex and deltex-four", and so on, all the way up to FFF - "fost hunhex and fostex-fost".

Incidentally, the modern English quirk of saying a number like 2463 as "twenty-four (hundred), sixty-three" instead of "two-thousand, four-hundred, and sixty-three" works really well for hexadecimal numbers: for example, 1AD4 is often written as 1A D4, and can be read as "ontex-alf (hunhex), deltex-four".

In fact, unlike decimal, in hexadecimal it is far more natural and useful, especially given modern technology, to do groups of two. So we don't even bother with another irregular word like "thousand" - instead, we just go directly to using the same Latin prefixes that large numbers in English use (billion, trillion, quadrillion, and so on), for multiples of two more hex digits:

So 10000 is a bihex, 1000000 is a trihex, 100000000 is a quadrihex, 10000000000 is a quintihex, 1000000000000 is a sextihex, 100000000000000 is a septihex, 10000000000000000 is an octohex, and so on. Technical people will appreciate that we're basically counting bytes here, and that a hunhex is one larger than the maximum value in a 1-byte unsigned integer - ditto bihex for 2 bytes, quadrihex for 4 bytes, octohex for 8 bytes, and so on.

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Little bit of language.

Word Count: 1.8K

Note: This is really just to introduce the characters and the tone of the piece. I hope you like this little group as much as I do!

May, 1939

“Will you three get out of the way?” Cora Vaughn nudged her youngest sister, Dot, with her shoe as the cake in her hands slid on its plate. Dot was the first to jump up from the doorstep. Giggling, she grabbed the hands of Lois Bennett and hauled her to her feet. She, in turn, took the cake from Cora’s hands and went to place it on the table assembled in the street. Bunting was strung from a few of the lampposts, and newly laundered white tablecloths fluttered a little in the spring breeze. A few of the neighbours’ children ran by, chasing a leather football down the cobbles. The last to move was the middle of the Vaughn girls. Cigarette between her lips, she leant against the door frame, staring steely eyed across the street. Suddenly, she ran forward.

“Careful!”

The old piano her father and Douglas Bennet were wheeling through the front door teetered. Just as her hands found the piano, another pair did the same. She looked up to see grey eyes twinkling back at her.

“Alright, Bess?”

Tom Bennett braced the piano against his shoulder.

“Alright, Tom.”

“You finished the dress then,” he nodded to her.

“Yeah, though I’m not sure on the red. Think it clashes with my hair.”

“I like it, nice to see you wearing dresses outside the dance hall,” he teased.

“Can you two stop your whispering and help?” Fergal Vaughn was going red in the face. Douglas Bennett looked ready to faint. Together the four of them manoeuvred the old upright through the door, and no sooner had it come to rest was Tom jogging to play football with the little ones. After inspecting the strings, Bess joined Cora and Lois once more on the doorstep of the Bennett’s home. Dot was bouncing around in front of them, her freshly curled hair shining in the sun.

“Yes, Dot, we know you’ve got tongs.” Cora said, clicking her teeth.

“Well it’s better than sleeping in rollers every night.” Dot retorted.

“I’d rather sleep in rollers than get up at the crack of dawn to curl my hair.”

“What time is Albie gonna be here?” Lois asked Bess, keen to stop the burgeoning argument.

“In a few minutes, I should say. Queenie Warren’s taken him for a walk around the houses.” Bess replied, watching Tom pick up one of the little boys to stop him reaching the ball. She smiled.

“Not the first time Queenie Warren’s been round the houses!” Dot laughed. Cora smacked her arm with a shush.

“Shit.” Bess threw her cigarette to the curb and ran to the piano. She played the first few chords of Happy Birthday, and the street stilled their activities to join in the song. Albie Vaughn rounded the corner, an overdressed young woman hanging off his arm. He beamed at the sight of them; his family and neighbours assembled around the table as they sang to him, and laughed brightly when Bess began a chorus of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow. Dot swung her arm around her brother’s neck, causing Queenie Warren to stumble out of the way. Cora placed a hand on her back apologetically before kissing her brother’s cheek. Fergal hugged his son, while Douglas shook his hand and Tom clapped him on the back. Bess was the last to greet her younger brother, kissing his hand and smiling.

“My boy is twenty-one!” Fergal shouted proudly to the street. A cheer rang through the afternoon air and people settled at the table, tucking into the sandwiches and cakes that the Vaughn girls had prepared with Lois’ help. Bess lit another cigarette and resumed her place at the piano. Occasionally, while her fingers worked through ragtime and foxtrot, she glanced over the party.

Cora and Lois were laughing together about something, and it joyed Bess to see them leave their worries behind for a few hours. They had both given so much to look after their families. Fergal and Douglas, too, were laughing. A bottle of beer in each hand, their eyes crinkled in the corners as Fergal gesticulated wildly while telling some story about his life back in Cork. Albie and Dot were walking around, chatting to party guests. At the table, Queenie Warren was applying more lipstick. She leaned towards Tom and looked up at him through her lashes. To Bess’ great delight he ignored her, and instead stood to fill a plate with more food. Bess snorted. Greedy guts. She focussed her attention back on the piano, before something was placed atop it. She looked up.

Tom was leaning on the upright, eyes towards the party. When Bess didn’t speak, he looked round.

“I think we can manage without a few songs while you eat your lunch.” The plate he had placed on the piano was piled with sandwiches and a slice of Albie’s birthday cake. Bess reached for out for a sandwich and popped it in her mouth.

“Thanks,” she said through her mouthful. Tom simply smirked and sauntered back to his seat.

The afternoon carried on with much merriment. One of the old Irish dears from down the road brought out a wireless and a bottle of sherry to share with the Vaughn girls. Despite the warmth of the day, and the sherry, a chill descended with the start of the evening. Albie and Tom were sent to the pub while the girls packed away the party. They sniggered as Queenie Warren struggled to keep up with them in her heels.

*

By nine o’clock that evening, the Vaughns and the Bennetts were sat around the fire in the former’s kitchen. Albie had stumbled home not half an hour before and was currently asleep in the rocking chair by the hearth. Cora, Bess and Lois were washing up, while Dot looked through one of Bess’ fashion magazines. Tom was still at the pub. From the kitchen table, Fergal and Douglas watched their daughters.

Fergal was so reminded of his late wife each time he looked at his girls. Their dark, copper hair looked aflame in the firelight, and with each glimmer of their eye and hush of their voice he felt as though she were back there with them. Cora and her gentleness, Bess’ steely confidence, Dot with her joy. Thank God for his girls. He turned to Albie and pride swelled in his chest. With his dark curls and eyes, he was the image of his father. But just like his daughters, he too took after their mother.

“Twenty-one,” he said softly, causing Douglas to look up. “And Dot not long off eighteen.”

“Never thought I’d have a family after the war, let alone see them grown,” Douglas said.

“We were the lucky ones.” Fergal said sadly. They both drank to that and fell silent. After a moment, Fergal spoke again. “It does worry me, him being twenty-one.” He gestured to Albie, now snoring gently. “You know, with all this stuff going on in Poland. Sounds just like it was before.”

Douglas merely hummed. Fergal knew he was thinking of Tom.

“You want me to help you get him to bed?” Douglas asked.  

“No, me and the girls will manage.” Bess turned and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

By the time the Bennetts had said their goodbyes, and the Vaughns had collectively hauled Albie to bed, it was half past ten. Bess always liked this time of day. She loved her family, adored them, but living in a tiny house with five people left her craving solitude. She was just settling in the rocking chair with a small glass of whiskey when the door to the yard clicked open. Hair ruffled, hands in his pockets, gentle smile directed at Bess was Tom Bennett.

“Wrong house.”

He tutted. “I know,” he drew out the last word teasingly. Bess looked him over.

“Where’s Queenie?”

“How should I know?”

Bess shrugged. “She seemed pretty keen on you,”

“She’s keen on anything with a pulse,”

“You’re well suited then.” Bess slouched in the rocking chair and rested her head against its back. She heard Tom sit at the piano stool and pick a few notes at random to play. “Well, where were you?”

“Who put the pennies in you?” Tom laughed. Bess raised her eyebrows at him in question and he sighed. “Met a man down the pub who said he could get me some car parts.” Tom was used to her silence and accustomed to reading her mind. “For me to flog.”

Bess’ eyes never left his as she took a sip of her whiskey. Tom huffed. He knew she didn’t approve, but sometimes he wished she’d tell him this. Just behave like a normal girl and speak, rather than communicate with him telepathically. He didn’t realise how long their silence had lasted until Bess spoke again.

“Are you ok?”

He considered her before speaking. Tom often found himself at the Vaughn’s late in the evening with just Bess for company while the others slept. He found her quiet confidence calming. Tom imagined Lois and Cora knew that he snuck out to talk to her, but they never said anything. Tonight, though, he wasn’t sure why he was here and so simply nodded.

Bess stood and made her way to the piano and lightly played a melody. Tom copied. She did another four bars, and once again Tom followed. When she nudged his shoulder he looked up to find her warm smile.

“I think you’re the only person who understands me sometimes Bess,”

“Get yourself off to bed. Night Tom,” she rubbed his shoulder and made her way up the stairs. He watched her go, grabbed his jacket from the table and left through the front door, tucking his spare key into his trousers. Just as he went to open the door to his own home across the street, he heard the clicking of shoes on the cobbles.

“Here,” Bess thrust something into his hands as he turned around. “We’ve got plenty. Too much. Goodnight.”

Tom opened the tissue paper and found a few slices of Albie’s birthday cake. He watched Bess disappear back into their house. She didn’t look back.

Note: Things will start to pick up in the next few chapters, I promise! Expect unlikely friendships, angst, gossip, letters, maybe a little sauciness…

The Vaughn girls ages are 24 (Cora), 22 (Bess) and 17 (Dot). I’ve put Lois at the same age as Cora, and Tom at the same age as Bess.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @i-killed-ramsey @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternett @chainsawsangel

[arugan]

PO as crystals/gemstones part.1 🌷

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚

as i promised, Protocol Ω as crystals/minerals. this obssession is persisting in me since i discovered houseki no kuni. so here is my version hehe

(it's gonna be long, there is everyone lol) (also quartz comes v often im sorry for that, it suits almost everyone)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ alpha : spodumene, this one especially, and rose quartz

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ beta : watermelon tourmaline ! and aquamarine

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ gamma : opal ! morganite w aquamarine, and ofc pearls

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ bravo : baryte !!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ charlie : sulphur quartz and triphane

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ echo : fluorite, the first pic especially, with the groups of cubes

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ foxtrot : a "rose des sables" and very yellow sulphur

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ golf : aqua blue obsidian, and blue chalcedony !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ hotel : obsidian or dark linarite !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ india : calcite, these 2 crystals fits her perfectly

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚

here is the first part ☆

[postoctobrist]

Now considering whole trans polycules with group themed names, November, Sierra, Foxtrot & Whiskey.

Aphrodite, Dionysus, Persephone, Zeus & Hera

So many fun possibilities.

yes!

[queerstuffonscreen]

Bomb Girls (2012-2014)

Episode length: 45-112 min.

Country: Canada

Genre: Drama, History, War

Language: English

Focusing on a group of women working in a munitions plant during World War II, this ensemble drama depicts the dangers and new experiences they face.

Season 1

Episode 1: Jumping Tracks

Episode 2: Misfires

Episode 3: How You Trust

Episode 4: Bringing Up Bombshell

Episode 5: Armistice

Episode 6: Elements of Surprise

Season 2

Episode 1: The Quickening

Episode 2: Roses Red

Episode 3: The Enemy Within

Episode 4: Guests of Honour

Episode 5: The Harder We Fight

Episode 6: Where There's Smoke

Episode 7: Party Line

Episode 8: Fifth Column

Episode 9: Something Fierce

Episode 10: Romeo Foxtrot

Episode 11: Kings and Pawns

Episode 12: Blood Relations

Movie

Bomb Girls: Facing the Enemy

Watch on Fubo or Plex

[demigoddessqueens]

While reading the Vox Machina modern s/o I keep wondering what would the reactions of the group be if they see dancing (Like Tap, ballet or whatever style of dance) from the modern era. Before s/o found themselves in Tal'dorei their hobby/profession was dancing? Like they hear unusual music coming from a room in Grey Skull Keep, curiosity driving their actions they decide to take a peak and see modern s/o dancing away like no one is watching. Smiling, graceful, so completely confident with their movements its like their a different person entirely. Bonus if they join in with s/o or embarrass the hell out of them with cheering XD.

This reminds me of ASTV when Gwen goes back to see Miles 😄

At first it started off as “portals” randomly appearing here and there and you randomly bumping into them

First it came across as an inconvenience because who are you? where did you come from? And what are you doing?

Sure they know dancing, but these different styles are completely new to them

You’ve dabbled a bit in the waltzes, foxtrots, hip hop, house, parts of the world, pop, and jazz

The first few times were a headache, for you and them both, trying to make sense of it all

But after a while, you get used to it. Now every other time a portal shows up your dancing serves as a distraction or point of conversation post fight

There was the one time a portal happen to open up as you were practicing free-styling. And then you noticed seven others just dancing around along with you.

Objectively they all love the slower dances with you, especially Percy and Vax. Much more intimate

And ballet outfits just flatter you so well! The frills, lace, tights and all 🩰