#🛬landing

[emeraldenha]

I’m home for the holidays🥰

[angeloflucha]

When we’re depressed, we watch Scooby Doo in this house.

[callmebabygirll0]

I was growing out my bush now I decided to make it a cute landing strip 🛬

[sgiandubh]

2023 or last week

That's not really matters', what is interesting is that Caitríona has a very high level of privacy in her movements or travels

She has a private life that is completely away from notice and attention, no press, no ordinary people, no fan who meets her by chance

Wow.. as if she had the invisibility power since 2019.

Dear Privacy Level Anon,

We're going to do things a bit differently, this time, with an audio answer. Nice to meet you, by the way:

For those who need a transcript, here goes:

'Your charade has very simple answers:

No Press? The Press would have to actually care or be sold a juicy tip/story, about that elusive B-lister who is such a compelling Claire Fraser (huh?) from Outlander ('wait a minute, that nice, secksay series around 2016, right?'). Press interest is, however, likely to immediately jump up, the minute she lands a better PR team and/or a part in a really relevant cinema project. Let's see what those two next movies bring, Anon.

No Ordinary People? Imagine you're Jane Doe (aka, an Ordinary Person), traveling from 🛫 London to 🛬Bangkok. Upon arrival at 🏯Suvarnabhumi Airport , while waiting in line for the notoriously looooong passport control (full profile pic included), you spot C (or S, or C and S, or C and S and Boos 1, 2, 3... 554). They vaguely remind you of someone. That someone could be anyone from a) your cousin Matilda's co-worker you have been briefly introduced to, three years ago; b) someone who looks like your homeland's host of 'Who Wants To Be a Millionaire' TV show (totally random example, here); c) someone who looks like that actress you once saw in that TV series which name you can't really remember. Ultimately, the fact that you are unable to put a name on that face really irritates you. Your feet hurt, you are sleepy, grumpy and you need to go to the bathroom ASAP (🚨🚨🚨🚨). Meanwhile, S and C kiss, Boo #456 is as unhappy as you and wants his blankie. Did I mention you need to use the 🚻 (somewhere far away from 🛃) ASAP? S and C 💋💋💋💋 some more. YOU NEED TO USE THAT TOILET AND YOU'RE STUCK IN THAT STUPID LINE. Boo #433 wants their mommy's attention NOW (🥹🍼🤦‍♀️), so you sympathize a bit ('what a cute 👶, just like his/her parents') but you are really focused on your 🧻problem. By the time you dragged your 🧳to the 🚕 area, in the thick, humid heat at Arrivals, you'd have forgotten everything about it, but remember every single second of your Passport Control Ordeal.

No Fan? Outside of these Tumblr/X/Instagram jihadist pockets, no casual 🪭 would probably ask for a pic, provided they remember the name of the series (it is really poor taste to go for it and candidly tell her/them something like ' oooh, I remember you from The Last Kingdom, such a wonderful series'). Out of those who still go for it, I bet the farm:

85% keep The Nice Pic tucked in their iPhones and just randomly share at the next school bake sale/corporate teambuilding/ Rotary Club meeting with random people saying random things like 'oooh, she's nice, wait a minute, wasn't she in The Last Kingdom'?

10% foolishly post on X or Instagram, to be immediately greeted by The Fandom Vigilantes, courtesy of alerts installed on their own iPhones: 'where was it/ when was it/was she alone/yes? why?/no? why and with whom/ what did she say/ did she say anything/ why didn't she say anything'. If, by a very probable misfortune, what you have to dish out does not click with the Greeting Committee's agenda, expect to be: a) treated like a 5 year old idiot or a tortured POW ('was she alone...? was she alone...? are you sure she wasn't alone...? ARE YOU SURE SHE WASN'T ALONE? ANSWER ME, WAS SHE ALONE?'); b) Caitsplained she is married to someone else and what you saw is an optical illusion; c) perhaps even forced to adjust your own narrative (maybe that 6′ 3" Viking was Tony McGill, after all? 😵). You immediately regret posting it on your public Social Media accounts, erase the pic and go private. By the time you do it (12 hours from posting), it would have been dutifully screencapped, in a middle of a full blown Fandom Skirmish.

5% know what Tumblr actually is (at a minimum) and/or are actively involved in its Fandom Subset. The minute they post is the start of just another Nagasaki episode. The DM inbox will explode with a rich array of pleas/insults/more Caitsplaining. Comments will range from the ecstatic to the revoltingly vulgar. And remember (LOL for weeks):

The Fandom will eventually never forgive you for sharing.'

[crazycatsiren]

Me, feeling better after infodumping for half an hour about why landing the airplane is the most challenging and dangerous part of the flight.🛬

[speedway-official-unofficial]

🏢🏢🛬

we’re safe it went past and landed without issue.

[surfmad]

Safe landing 🛬

[nattaphum]

Bangkok ✈️ Laos

Landed 🛬

[larojauniverse]

¡Sí, sí, sí, la copa ya está aquí!

The team has landed in Madrid 🛬

[jojotichakorn]

landed 🛬.

[frogmood]

my list of under utilized and vaguely threatening emojis

🫨 - im shaking you

🫥 - neutral specter

🫵 - you

👥 - the watcher & the witness

🧌 - get out of my swamp

🧏‍♀️ - look me in the eye :)

💇‍♀️ - don't test me

🧥 - the invisible detective is on to you

🪨 - the jpeg rock will hit you in the physical realm when i send it to you

🌬️ - mother winter puffs a fat cloud on your sorry face

🦪 - threatening object (its a clam technically but i mean look at it)

🫗 - dionysus' end

🥋 - the invisible detective is learning martial arts to use against you

♟️ - you are a mere pawn

🛬 - your plane is landing at an unsafe angle, watch yourself

🛖 - i send you to the low poly yurt for punishment

🗜️ - the d that hurts you

☎️ - the emergency phone may ring at any moment

🪫 - our glassen energy vessel will soon run dry

📡 - i am sending ultrasonic sound waves into your body, causing permanent damage

🪤 - the unsprung trap

🧿 - unknown (alarming)

🕳️ - the hole

🪅 - the paiñyata

🪑 - the interrogation chair

📉 - your stock is plummeting with me

📁📂 - the folding twins

📝 - the letter of intent

🔓 - the picked lock

❕ - the silent alarm

💠 - idk what it is but it scares me

⚧️ - threatening to conservatives only

👁️‍🗨️ - the all seeing eye

🗯️ - unspoken shock

[simspaghetti]

🛬 Just landed in your own personal slice of paradise 🌴

[mystical-marlin]

crash landing 🛬 officially takes up TWO notebooks.

Chapter 9 coming soon✨

[philza-updates]

Phil posted on Twitter!

[Image ID: screenshot of a tweet by Ph1LzA, it reads "America I have landed 🛬". End ID]

[romeo-fiore]

landed 🛬

[thatsrightice]

Here’s unused content from my mota Crosby x Bubbles fic “and maybe if i hold you now”, but can be read alone!!! It’s basically just some fluff of Blakely’s crew after the October 8, 1943 mission to Bremen where Just-a-Snappin’ had gone down and their crew was presumed KIA. They returned late that night much to everyone’s surprise, though several of their crew were injured and one KIA.

Bubbles pulled off the path and into a gap a few buildings down from the interrogation hut. He glanced at his watch as he got out of the jeep. H-minus 0410. Inside, Blakely, Kidd, Douglass, Forkner, and Thornton were seated around a table with Colonel Harding. Standing behind the Colonel were several other members of Group Ops and lurking in the corner of the room with a dark look on his face was Bucky. Crosby walked around the table and sat in the empty chair between Blake and Doug. Bubbles nodded to the other members of Group Ops as he took his place beside them, across the table from Crosby.

“Glad you could finally join us, Lieutenant. Captain,” Harding addressed the pair.

“Sorry, Sir,” Bubbles spoke politely, stepping forward to place a document in front of him. “Lieutenant Crosby needed to be taken to the hospital to get checked out.”

“Lieutenant?” Harding turned to Crosby, who currently had his nose in his briefcase as he pulled out his logs and maps.

“Uh, yes, Sir,” Crosby confirmed. “Just a concussion, Sir.”

“We were just talkin’ ‘bout how you and Forky missed your calling to the Red Cross,” Doug grinned, tipping back in his chair back. His hand was wrapped in a bandage and his face was bruised but he looked to be in good spirits. Crosby was sure he didn’t look any better.

“I just did what Forky told me to,” Crosby protested. He flipped open his log book and shuffled through some maps.

Douglass ignored him, instead launching into his retelling of events. “Picture this, Croz is holding Charlie’s hands and smooth talkin’ him while he’s sitting on McClelland’s chest to keep the kid from climbing back in the ball,” Dougie boasted to all the flyboys around them. “All the while Forky is packing Charlie with our open parachutes and thawing a syringe of morphine in his mouth.”

“Let’s back up a bit now that we have the navigator’s logs,” the Colonel interrupted. “Try your best to remember what happened. Crosby, I hope your logs are as detailed as I hear.” Crosby’s head shot up, face taking on a red tint. He looked briefly from Harding to Bubbles and then back down to the logs in front of him.

“They will be, Sir,” Forky assured, smiling at the navigator. Blake nodded in agreement, resting an arm on the back of Crosby’s chair.

“Of course. Now let’s start from the top…”

☁️☁️☁️🔥✈️🔥☁️☁️🛬💥🌳

“... and then Croz starts talking about lamps…”

“Yeah! What was it he said? Two lamps or one?”

“By land, or by sea,” Forky added. Bubbles snorted, shaking his head as he suppressed a laugh. The others looked at him in confusion.

“Wait, was that supposed to be a joke, Croz?”

“Maybe?” the navigator admitted, not sounding too sure of himself.

“Paul Revere,” Bubbles inputs. There was no response and everyone shrugged. “Ya know...the British are coming?”

A chorus of ‘ooohhhhhhh’s broke out amongst the group.

“Yeah, well these are the Germans and they came at us by air so make that three lamps,” Blake interrupted.

☁️☁️☁️🔥✈️🔥☁️☁️🛬💥🌳

“Up ahead we spotted another Fort with some Messerschmitts smelling around.”

“They were playing with them,” Doug grimaced in disgust.

“No chutes. Unable to ID,” Crosby added.

“Yeah, then they turn to us and the Luftwaffe, they just don’t stop coming but we took care of them.”

“That’s what happens when you have dead-eye gunners,” Crosby smiled at the man next to him. Doug leaned over and bumped shoulders with him.

“How many do you have noted in total?”

Crosby ran a finger down the page as he read the columns of his notes. He flipped to the next page. “I’ve got two for Via; two for Doug; two for Mac; two-no three for Thorny; one for Yevich and one for Nord.”

“That’s what, eleven?”

“Yes, sir. I have the IDs where observed in my logs,” Crosby confirmed.

Someone let out a low whistle.

☁️☁️☁️🔥✈️🔥☁️☁️🛬💥🌳

Crosby kept his head down as he quietly gathered his papers. Bucky’s footsteps echoed thunderously in the near-empty room, punctuated by the slamming of the front door.

“Don’t worry about him, Croz,” Kidd spoke softly, squeezing his shoulder.

“I should have paid closer attention,” Crosby shook his head.

“You did everything you could,” Blakely reassured him, lighting a cigarette. “There was so much solid flak, you could almost slice it like cake.”

“And I’m not sure there was anything you could have said that would give him the closure he’s looking for,” Douglass put a hand on his shoulder and stood. “Now, come on, I’m starving.”